Head games....

My boy continues to be a tad challenging. Today I was doing a bunch of cooking and I was tripping over all the stuff he'd left lying around. He'd come in to move it every now and then just to keep me on my toes so I made the ultimate demand. "Pick up your toys!" I'm a tyrant, I know I am.

He wailed and hollered and made sure I knew he was slightly displeased. Then the cajoling began "Mama will you please help me pick up my toys." And "Please mama, I sure would like some help picking up my toys." When that wasn't getting the effect he desired he tried "There are too many toys, I can't pick them all up."

Somehow that also failed to elicit the desired effect. I can't imagine why.

I finally told him that if I had to help him pick up his toys they were going to be MY toys. He didn't believe me. I continued to cook. I put the pie in the oven, finished up making the chicken pot pie, washed dishes, wiped down the counters, and swept the floor. During this time he made NO progress at picking up his toys although at least he was sitting in the living room rather than under my feet so in that way it was somewhat helpful as long as I was able to ignore the whining.

The moment of truth had arrived. I grabbed a bag and put the toys that were still floating around the kitchen in it making sure to tell him what I was doing. And then I called them mine and took them down to the basement.

Oh, the anger, the carrying on, the crying, the screaming, the threats "I'm never going to eat what you want me to eat, I'm only going to eat CANDY." And "I'm never going to let you and Daddy sleep!"

I calmly returned upstairs and told him that I had to do "laundry" so he had that time to finish cleaning up his toys.

He picked them up.

He had some juice.

And then my darling boy excised the devil and returned to his own body.