“Spitting? Nooooo! You cannot spit!”

“That’s just gross,” Joe said, when we told him about Emma spitting at her bus driver, who was, presumably trying to drive the bus. Or perhaps Emma spit in her direction and not actually on her, in any event, it was upsetting to all of us and I’m sure even more so to the poor bus driver.
We decided an all out assault was in order. Joe was contacted, Richard and I emailed Emma’s school, and a plan was formulated. Emma would not get a cupcake when she returned home from school, it was decided. By the time Emma arrived home, the cupcakes had been stowed away in an undisclosed place and all of us were prepared for the melt down we assumed would be forth coming. Except there was no tantruming, in fact, Emma, though not happy with our pronouncement she was not getting a cupcake for dessert, did not do much more than look sad, and peer into the frig, saying, “Cupcakes all gone.” Then she nodded her head and pursed her lips.
“If you don’t spit, you can have a cupcake tomorrow when you come home from school,” we told her.
“It’s okay. Cupcake tomorrow,” she said.
This morning, Emma didn’t even ask for a cupcake. Upon seeing the empty space on the shelf in the frig they normally occupy, she nodded her head and said to no one in particular, “Cupcake? Noooooo! You cannot spit.”
When I took her down to the bus, I spoke again to the matron and bus driver, emphasizing how they should say in a stern, but calm voice, “No spitting,” when and if she did so. I told them we had spoken to Emma and she understood there would be consequences. I asked them to call me immediately if she spit. I am pleased to report, no call came. Later this afternoon, we received an email from her school saying not only had Emma not spit on the bus, where she was given loud cheers and high fives upon drop off, but she also did not spit at school in the class room.
We will continue to work on this with her, but for this afternoon, she gets a cupcake!