Sounds reasonable to me.
But I’m a mum.
Clearly, it doesn’t sound reasonable to boys, as I repeat the “Don’t run in the house” request a bazillion times, including pausing to discuss why the rule might be in place, the dangers of it to himself and others and the fact that I’m sick of repeating it.
I even point out the number of times he has run up the hall and fallen up the stairs and get him to reflect on how much that hurt.
“Ok, fine. Stop telling me will you!”
… as he runs up the hall, falls up the stairs, smashing his shins, yet again, as he tumbles and lays there calling out for me. In pain. Crying.
Surely it would be much simpler if I just sat there and poked him with a sharp stick for a while until he got the message.
That way, I wouldn’t be wasting my breath and wouldn’t have to leave what I’m doing to go give him a cuddle, check he hasn’t broken anything and try not to laugh.