…And the table won.

For weeks now, the round table has been quietly minding its business while Temi has picked on it. She’s thrown stuff at it, banged on it, climbed on it.

Daddy and I have tried cushioning the table from her blows with pillows. She threw the pillows out her way.

We would pick her up and move her. She scurried back to the table as soon as we released her.

We gave her lessons in acceptance and nonviolence. She cried in protest.

Today, the table had enough. It fought back.

Temi has decided to pick on somebody her own size: Daddy’s wallet.