Gummy Bears

We have been haphazardly trying to potty train the Beast. A 6 pound bag of gummy bears is aiding and abetting us in this endeavor. Apparently the stubborn young fellow will do a lot to earn these coveted gummy treasures, and his sister cheers him on valiantly in hopes of also getting a treat (preferably green).

One night, I went upstairs to check on the kids only to find that the Beast had a most unpleasant smell. He insisted that he still had to go potty; so I sent him downstairs to get cleaned up and to try using the potty. The hubby helped him get situated, and soon his efforts earned him a handful of gummy bears. We sent him, clutching his gummy bears like a trophy, back to bed.

I had just sat back down to do some more work on a custom name train when I heard a very offended voice over the room monitor.
"Hey! Where did you get gummy bears? That's not fair!"
(silence)
"Daaaaddddddy! Daddy! I need some gummy bears too!"
(silence)
"Daddy? Please may I have some gummy bears? "
(another silence)
"Momma? Momma! I want some gummy bears too!"
(longer silence)
and finally. . .
"God? I really need gummy bears!"

At that point, Daddy could no longer resist, and the Drama Queen ended up with a handful of gummy bears (mostly green) as well.