Entitlement

Kelly is in the dog house with me right now. She has had a variety of treats today, and yet behaved badly:

• This morning, Jean bought Kelly a bunch of Croisandwiches at Burger King, so she could have something interesting for breakfast a few days this week. Jean also bought herself a frozen coke. Kelly's response: How come I didn't get one?
  
  
• I took Kelly with me to Costco, wove my way through all the aisles letting her get all the free samples her little heart desired. When she expressed great interest in the apple cider, I asked her if she wanted any, she said yes, so I bought her some.
  
  
• For lunch, I took her to Burger King, bought her a kid's meal (including a toy), and a frozen coke. I played with her while she ate. On the way out, I bought Jean another frozen coke, since she had asked me to. Kelly began to frown and grump. "It's not fair that Mom gets two frozen cokes and I only get one.
  
  

The problem we have here is that Kelly honestly believes that this is her due. She has only to ask, and it is hers. I'm sure this is partly a function of being a five-year old, but it also has to do with growing up in an affluent society. She has more toys now than I had in my entire life (thanks mostly to grandparents). I'm sure I had more toys than my parents ever had.

But it's hard to explain things like the Great Depression to a five-year old. In the end, with days like today, I just get frustrated, tell her she's being selfish, and let her know she's in the dog house for the rest of the day. Maybe someday we'll communicate more clearly, or she'll grow out of it. This sense of entitlement is not attractive.

Rereading the above, I can see that it might seem that I am catering to her sense of entitlement, but it isn't so. She has chores which she has to do, and the treats are usually clearly associated with doing her work. But I will admit that this is all part of fine-tuning our permissiveness...