To be honest, I always thought that when Durel and I became parents, I would be the "bad cop."
Sure, I knew that I would be really good at kissing boo-boos and cuddling and stuff. But I always thought that he would be a softie, sort of, about things while I was the stalwart Keeper of the Rules.
Hey, guess what? I was so wrong.
Jack is a good sleeper. He always has been. In the past few months, he's also become quite the negotiator at bedtime. I know this, I do. I see it for what it is: a stall tactic.
It usually goes something like this:
Me: OK, Jack, time for bath and bed.
Jack: I'm HUNGRY!
Me: You had dinner at dinner time. Now it's bedtime. Let's go.
Jack: I'm FIRSTY!
Me: You can have some water after bath. Come on.
Jack: I want TEN! MORE! MINUTES!
(Yes, this exchange is thoughtfully placed to save face for what I am about to say, but seriously, it's accurate.)
Jack is also a good eater. And I'm not just saying that so I can brag that he eats seaweed salad. The kid can throw down some food. And he's growing. He's getting taller every ten seconds. I have no idea what size pants he'll be wearing once the cool weather comes. I'm pretty sure he's skinny like a 2T but that those will wear like capri pants. I'm waiting until it cools off to buy anything at all, as a result.
So, last night...he had a cheeseburger, a few green beans, and some Pirate Booty for dinner. He demolished it and said he was done. OK, I thought. Fair enough. He chugged some water. Great.
Bath time came and went without incident. Story time came, and he chose to read one of his current favorite books about fruit. The book talks about where kinds of fruit grow, if they grow in bunches or alone, etc. He pretty much has it memorized.
(Side note: When he shouts out that peaches are FUZZY, I have a flashback to Shag: The Movie, which is a total non sequitur and only a handful of people will get. Megan and Mandy, I'm looking at you.)
Yeah, so. While reading the fruit book last night, Jack looked up at me and said plaintively, "Momma, I'm hungry."
Listen. Durel and I are not allowed to watch Top Chef or Iron Chef after dinner. BECAUSE IT MAKES US HUNGRY. It was not that far afield to think that Jack's fruit book had made him hungry. And after he demolished his dinner, I thought -- you know what? I believe him!
To take a three year old out of their bedroom once bath is finished and you're nanoseconds from getting into bed is a BIG DEAL. You're challenging the very tenuous bedtime rules that you've instilled for said three year old, a master negotiator and button pusher.
I committed to believing him. We went downstairs. Durel gave me a mild side-eye but went along with it and made Jack a turkey sandwich. The three of us sat down at the dinner table for dinner.
Yeah, he totally wasn't hungry.
He did want to sit at the dinner table with us. He did want me to light the candles. He did want to blow them out. He did want to hang out with us (kind of).
He wanted to stay up later. And Momma bought it. Hook, line, and sinker.
Anyway, that's that.
Hope you outsmart someone devious today.