It’s the third night in a row that our 2.5 year old has gone to bed happily, calmly and quietly without yelling or throwing a massive fit and causing a great disturbance in the force. I don’t even know what to do with the peace. Maybe it would be an easier transition for my ears if I ran around the house banging a bunch of pots and pans.
Tonight, Two of the little neighborhood girls zoomed by in their pink Barbie sports car and picked Josh up out in front of our house. They drove all over the place and Josh had his arm on the side like he was ballin’. The girls pull up to our front door and drop him off.
Me to Josh: “Do not even think about getting comfortable with that scenario.”
My son refers to himself in the third person:
“Mommy, J-man wants some milk.”
1) I can’t possibly be expected to keep a straight face
2) Does he know his real name is Joshua?
3) I may not stop this any time soon.
Dearest Joshua: I don’t understand half of what you say. But sometimes I pretend I do so you’ll stop repeating yourself. Just start remembering everything I missed so we can talk about it in therapy 30 years from now mmmkay?
Joshua at dinner asks for water with a full glass of milk on his tray.
Me: “Nope. Because I’m tired of getting up to get you stuff. How’s THAT for some honesty.”
Dave: “Somewhere in there, I heard a mic drop.”