Apparently Kate has learned the meaning of warning from one of the poems in Where the Sidewalk Ends. Then she saw the warning signs about not putting your fingers between the doors in the Paris metro.
The entire week, I’m getting warning drawings as I deny her a 2nd helping of ice cream. Another warning when I won’t let her bounce on the bed. Another warning when I refuse to carry her after she just bounced on the trampoline for 30 mins and says she is tired.
I lean down and tell her I love her, thanks for the warning, but the answer is still no.