Read a good blog post here.
Being twenty-three is no fun, really. Not old enough to be respected but plenty young enough to be rejected.
Elijah is two and gets insulted when we say he's not three yet. He's also very concerned about a return trip to St. Louis, because he had so much fun. Here is our daily (sometimes hourly) conversation:
"Mama, we go to St. Lou now?" (with an impish grin)
"Nope, not today. When you're three."
(pouting and frowning commences) "I am not two!"
"Yes, baby, you're two."
"I wanna be three! Go to St. Lou!"
"When you ARE three, we're gonna go to St. Louis. But not now."
"I am two."
"Yes, you are."
"I DON'T WANNA BE TWO! I AM THREE!"
"You are two, not three yet."
(sometimes bursts into tears here) "I am not two!"
and it can go on like this back and forth for as long as Mama will put up with it. Or until terrible two has a meltdown about the fact that I won't let him be three NOW. You know, so we can go to glorious St. Louis TODAY.
Poor Elijah has such a mean mommy.
No comments:
Post a Comment