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I've been trying to teach Sam to say, "I'm sorry," when he does something naughty. You know, like winging a toy across the living room in a fit of temper, or giving his dad a karate chop in the testicles.

Up until yesterday, he'd been resisting this lesson in manners, much as he resisted saying "please" and "thank you." (Although he did start using "please" when it connected for him that this was a way to get something he wants. Now he uses it incessantly. "Pweese!" he yells, waving his hand at the fleet of tractors at the Home Depot. "Dream on," I tell him.)

Yesterday, however, we finally had a breakthrough on the sorry front.

During dinner, Sam very deliberately dumped his pizza on to the floor.

"Sam! No!" I admonished him.

"Naughty, naughty Lulu," he said innocently, perfectly prepared to blame this transgression on the dog.

"You're getting a time out for that," I declared. (Yes, I use time outs. I'm aware that in some quarters, this makes me a Bad Mother, but I don't care. So please refrain from e-mailing me links to web pages that warn how time outs turn children into future serial killers. I'm going to take my chances.)

"What do you say?" I asked, when I retrieved him at the end of the time out period.

Silence.

"I'm . . .," I prompted.

Still, nothing.

"I'm . . . sorry. I'm sorry. Can you say that?"

Sam furrowed his brow.

"Look, you're not getting out of time out until you say it," I threaten. "Come on. Say, 'I'm sorry.'"

After a long pause, in which Sam weighed staying in boring time out against giving in to me on this point. Finally, the threat of boredom won out.

"I sorry," he said, with a devilish smile that belied the words.

So now he says it . . . but I just don't get the feeling that he means it.

Posted 20 March 2006 at 04:20 PM