Last night, I realized that I had done something new. Something wild, and something even more bold than my "take the door off the hinge if you slam it one more time" mother.
Blake asked us if we could have a family game night. Of course we said yes, so after a bath and an episode of Olivia, Dave pulled out Trouble. A simple, and quick evening game, that would put the team in bed within a mere 10 minutes.
Not the game Blake would have chosen. So on goes the water works, which is then followed up with sweat, hair flying, maybe a little bit of saliva, and all hell has broken loose.
After one too many chances to choose between playing the game, and bed, Mommy's choice won out. Off we go, with the wild child in tow, to the bathroom for flossing and brushing. (side note: super duper easy to floss your child's teeth while they are screaming bloody murder) The noise was unreal. I stayed calm and told him that there was no way that I could let him play any game, because then he would think that this sort of behavior was okay. Then came the shaking, pounding the air, and who knows what else.
I stood up, opened the shower curtain, turned it on and placed my 4 year old under the freezing cold water.
The only thing he could say was, "Mommy! My glow in the dark pajamas are ruined!"
Needless to say, Blake slept for 13 hours last night. On our way out to the car this morning, he says, "Mommy, if I could just take a moment and show you the game that "I" wanted to play last night."
If this is 4, Blake might be up for adoption by 14.
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