Mr. Contrary
It's been slowly building over the last few months--this metamorphosis of my third sweet child into a Hyde-like beast who is never satisfied with anything, and wants exactly the opposite of what he is offered.
I guess it comes with the parcel of a three-and-a-half-year-old. The Terrible Threes? Well, that's how it is with this child.
This morning, the now-typical conversation at the breakfast table went something like this:
Me: Jabin, sit up to the table; your hot cereal is ready.
Jabin: But I don't yike hot cereoh!
Me: Don't be silly! I've been giving you hot cereal every other day for the last three years, and you've always loved it! You can't tell me that you don't like it!
Jabin: Oh, okay. (Sits in his chair, somewhat pouty.)
Me: Would you like some raisins or nuts in your cereal?
Jabin: I don't yike waisins!
Me: (Rolling eyes.) Whatever.
Jabin: (after a pause) Mommy, can I have some waisins, pwease?
Me: (Insert internal scream of frustration here.)
I'm so glad that I know this won't last forever.
(I hope.)
I guess it comes with the parcel of a three-and-a-half-year-old. The Terrible Threes? Well, that's how it is with this child.
This morning, the now-typical conversation at the breakfast table went something like this:
Me: Jabin, sit up to the table; your hot cereal is ready.
Jabin: But I don't yike hot cereoh!
Me: Don't be silly! I've been giving you hot cereal every other day for the last three years, and you've always loved it! You can't tell me that you don't like it!
Jabin: Oh, okay. (Sits in his chair, somewhat pouty.)
Me: Would you like some raisins or nuts in your cereal?
Jabin: I don't yike waisins!
Me: (Rolling eyes.) Whatever.
Jabin: (after a pause) Mommy, can I have some waisins, pwease?
Me: (Insert internal scream of frustration here.)
I'm so glad that I know this won't last forever.
(I hope.)