Hi everyone! It’s been awhile since I last stole Mommy’s computer to tell you all sorts of stories about her, like that time she brought a tree in our house. She’s got that idea in her head again it seems but this year I am on to her. I already found all of those presents she started buying for “The Cousins” (who, as it turns out, are real people.) Except they are still not people I want to share with so I snagged a few My Little Ponies when she wasn’t looking and hid them under my bed. I’m pretty sure she hasn’t found them yet on account of how she is real bad at that vacuum thing.
Anyhow, I’m almost three now and so I’ve learned lots of things since then. Like, I learned this one thing that is called “Having Your Own Way.” I got on board with this immediately. I mean, obviously my way is the very best of all the ways.
I don’t even know why everyone keeps bothering with any of the other ways, actually. I keep trying to tell everybody that. I stomp my foot and say “NO! I DO IT WIKE DIS WAY!” And sometimes they tell me no, to which I reply “NO! DON’T SHAY DAT WORD! DON’T SHAY DAT NO TO ME!” because they are real slow to catch on, I think.
Mommy, however, is apparently not down with this whole “Having Your Own Way” thing. She is still stuck on this other thing called “Time Out.” I do not see the appeal, personally.
She is always going on and on about how I need to sit and “Think About My Actions” and I’m like “I already DID think about my actions, woman! And then I DID them!” I don’t know why she is all bent out of shape about it. I just call that “Good Follow Through.”
Like for example, I THOUGHT that hitting Lucy Dog with my foam baseball bat seemed like a great idea. And so I did it. It’s not my fault that Mommy doesn’t understand my attempts to revolutionize the game of baseball.
So I’m sitting here thinking about my actions and I’ve decided that when that ridiculous timer goes off what I need to do is corner Lucy Dog in the kitchen for the next inning. That’s definitely an improvement on my original game plan.
Oh, here she comes. Next she’s going to ask me all sorts of questions like “Can you tell Mommy why you had to sit in time out?”
Of course I can. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to. I’m very aware that Mommy doesn’t understand my genius.
Now she’s going to ramble on about how “Mommy put you in time out for hitting and hitting is not allowed. Do we hit our friends?”
And I’m like “Yes.”
And she’s all “NO. No we do NOT hit our friends.”
And I’m confused because did she not just see me hit someone? Obviously I DO hit my friends, woman! I’m starting to think I might be better off having this conversation with someone else.
So I tell her that. I say “I DID hit! I DID hit my fwiends and my Wuchy Dog wif dat bat and I better go talk to Daddy about it!”
Then she purses her lips and turns her face and her shoulders do some weird shaking thing that makes me very worried for her health. Mommy’s not getting any younger you know and sometimes I hear her telling Daddy about how I’m giving her so many gray hairs. I don’t know what she’s talking about. I have never given her any gray hairs. That would be weird. I only give her my good stuff, like my carrot sticks after I’ve already chewed the juice out of them. YOU’RE WELCOME, MOMMY.
When she turns back to me she says that she needs me to be a good listener and a big helper and that she knows I’m having a hard time with all of my emotions. Then she starts telling me something that sounds vaguely familiar that I recognize as her “Being Kind To Others”speech and it makes me feel real sad to see Mommy so upset and so I start to cry a little, just to soften her up some, and I give her a little pat on the shoulder and say “Don’t be fwustrated Mommy. I just habing a hard time wif all my ‘moshuns.”
Then she pulls me onto her lap for a hug and since I’m feeling really helpful I decide to show her just what a big helper I can be and I smile sweetly at her and say very seriously “Mommy? You got shum hairs in your nose.”
