Mummy I’ve got fruit snack, peaches…

You don’t have to tell me whats in your lunch. You can handle it.

You interrupted me, you don’t even know what I was going to say.

Sorry, what were you going to say?

Never mind.

No really, I apologize, what is it?

You told me I was being disrespectful to my sister for not being ready to leave at the time that she wanted on her day*. And now I’m asking for help [to be on time] because I don’t know what else to put in my lunch.

This is tricky because you got up in plenty of time to get all your things done including packing your lunch. You want me to not interfere with your lunches and but now you’re asking me to help with your lunch making? I don’t want to be involved if I know you are capable of it. [It puts me in a position to judge your lunch choices, kid. You don’t really want that.] Do you see how that is confusing for me?

Ugh I only wanted some ideas.

The thing is I know you can handle this (it’s been the same lunch choices all week) and it’s also my job to tell you when you can handle it yourself. There’s ham, salami… no no no I’m not making a list. You can do this.

[And she did.]

*One of the coolest sibling rivalry remedies my own mother ever instituted was odd/even days. Each kid takes half the days of the year, ODD or EVEN. On ‘your’ day you get to sit in the front seat, choose the music, and in our house, choose if we are early for school or merely on time. Stuff like that.