On the flip side, Punkin learned that I do not appreciate finding scribble marks on the wall in a four year old's bedroom.
Additional sources of pain and despair for Punkin leading toward great heaving sobs, copious amounts of snot drippage, and nearly indecipherable declarations in the aftermath of Pencil Gate:
"My cwown bwoke!" and "Shortcake's woom is pwettiuh than mine."
A long talk about appreciating those items which belong to us or others by treating them in an appropriate manner (which may or may not have included the phrase "this is why we can't have nice things" thrown in for good measure), some relaxation breathing, and plenty of snuggling and gentle rocking later peace was restored. I only had to stifle giggles at the dramatic display once so I like to think I'm getting more immune to her tactics.