Punishment Jar

The Punishment Jar was the worst possible way to discipline a teenager.
A fish bowl filled with little pieces of colored paper, each with a punishment of varying degrees written upon it.

On the phone after 4pm?
Turn your head and pick 1 slip.
"Take the trash out for two weeks."

Five minutes late on curfew?
Turn your head and pick 1 slip.
"Clean out the fridge."

Caught with a boy in the house?
Turn your head and pick 2 slips.
"Let Bailey take care of Jonas the fish for a week." (He died that week.)
"Organize Andrew's entire LEGO collection by brick type, size, and color." (It took me 4 months to do that one.)

Lie to your parents and run away to Minnesota for a week?
Turn your head and pick 3 slips.
"No concerts for a month."
"No weekend dates for two months."
"Take everything out of your room except for your bedding and one book."
(To this day, I feel like my mother rigged that round of the Punishment Jar game.)

I hated the Punishment Jar. I loathed it. I despised it. The idea of not knowing what kind of sentence I was to get for my crime of the week was like anguish for my soul.

But for some reason, I cannot wait to break out the second edition of the Punishment Jar for my kids one day.