Kids...part whatever the hell this is.

So, yesterday.  Yesterday was 71 degrees.  The imp refused to take off his coat when I picked the kids up from school.  Went to put it back on when he started to run outside to go play. 

I got...suspicious.  I asked him why he wanted to wear his coat outside.  His eyes slid away from mine and off to the left.  "I just want to." 

Uh huh.  I told him I was going to search his coat pockets, and did he want to revise that statement.

He'd had one of his little friends "give" him some monster trucks.  And didn't think I'd let him keep them.

He's damn right I wouldn't.  Friendship isn't for sale, assuming he didn't ask for them outright (bad manners, but possible) or demand them (bullying). 

They're going back today. 

And he's in trouble. 

He knew it.  And when I explained exactly what was going to happen, he started...well, keening is the only way I can describe it.  Huge fat tears, wailing, and hunched in on himself.  And looking at me like he expected  me to either reverse the decision, or feel bad for making him feel bad.

Thing is, I don't.  I don't ever feel guilty about fixing their behavior.  I don't care if it hurts their feelings.  Yes, I care that they're sad, if they're just, y'know, sad.  But if they brought it on themselves with behavior correction, I want  them unhappy.  I want them so unhappy that they won't do it again. 

I may have to figure out something else to do, though.  This is, like, the third time he's tried pulling this, and the punishments aren't making an impact.