My children don't have to clear their plates before desert. We're odd. It's actually not something I had to do either. My parents never made desert something you had to earn. If there was cake, we got to eat it. My mother literally had to toss the Halloween candy because my brother and I just never really cared about sweets. But my parents never made a whole lot of deserts (or baked much) so it was never a big deal. The first time I encountered this whole desert thing (that I can recall anyway) was when a friend of ours got really upset with his three year old for not eating his dinner. And then remarked that he could not have desert. We must be odd was all I kept thinking. But oh, well.
I also didn't have a curfew growing up either. That's right. The only rule was my parents wanted to know where I was (or was going) and if I planned on sleeping over. I once stayed out until 4 in the morning. But generally speaking my friends have curfews so I usually went home when they did. And now cities are enacting curfews for minors. And I really think it's ridiculous. I mean why? If say, for example, a your child's friend calls your child because there is an emergency. Your child responds by immediately dashing over to help. Say the friend's child is being beaten or their mother has gone into diabetic shock. Are the police seriously going to arrest said child? Or what if the child is on their way home from outside the town, the car breaks down or gets a flat. Are the police going to arrest a child headed home because it's past curfew? Really? What's the point of curfew? I'm sure there are a lot of teens getting into trouble at night but it's really age-ism. Not all teens are terrible or out at night because they are going to break into something. Heck there are college age (read: legal adults) who get into trouble too. More so sometimes as some people can attest to about what is infamous in London: The St. Patty's Day Riot. Don't see a bunch of teens rioting there. Nope.
In other news...
HB who won't be four for a couple of weeks is learning to read. But he's not completely potty trained. Oh, the pee is fine. He even does well in public. It's the poo. What is up with boys and their poo? He did go once on his own in the toilet, but he's so funny about it. Kicks me out until the messy part ;). Shuts the door and tells me to keep it closed. But maybe it's just a kid thing. Or because that's what Dad does.
And yes, he's learning to read. He can read the following: no, a, I, go, dog, cat, pat, rat, Dan, and can. It's a slow slow process.