It's funny raising M. She's hilarious. She's crazy. She's responsible! She has expectations. When she does things that I don't like I try to ask "Did I tell you not to...?" It is a somewhat rhetorical question about the idea that she should know better, but it's also a real question. Because if I have told her not to do ... she's in trouble. If I haven't told her to do this, than this is a warning.
I'm trying to raise her to not be a control freak like me.
Tonight I made stir-fry with pork, broccli, and peppers. M doesn't like peppers. Because the veggie stand had orange and red peppers on sale it was a no brain-er to separate the stir-fry. Red, orange and pork for me. Green and pork for M. Green, red, orange and pork for P. Cheese sandwich for G.
As M got along in her meal she exclaimed "Mom! Did I tell you I don't like peppers?"
"Yes, M. You did tell me you don't like peppers. I'm sorry there are peppers in your dinner." and I took them out. They were easy to find.