We've decided to buy bunk beds. You see, our 2-year-old is apparently related to the princess from The Princess and the Pea and it is PURE torture for her to be required to sleep in her toddler bed. So we, trying to be proactive, have decided to buy bunk beds because our baby daughter and our 2-year-old will probably always share a bedroom, and we'd probably eventually buy them anyway. So this whole bunk bed business is breaking my son's heart. He can't fathom anything cooler than sleeping in the top bunk. So I, being the kind and loving mother that I am, said that if he was oh so good that maybe, just maybe, he could sleep on the top bunk. So, with all of that background, here is the conversation that I overheard my 4-year-old son and 2-year-old daughter having tonight.
4-y-o: I'm going to sleep in the top bunk!
2-y-o: No you not! No no no!
4-y-o: Yes I am! Mommy said, and Mommy's in charge!
2-y-o: No YOU NOT! It's my yoom and ME in targe! I dit to sleep on the top bunk!
4-y-o: Mooooommmmmm!!!!
But wait, it doesn't end there.
I was working on cleaning up the last of the straggling Christmas decor tonight. I asked my son to throw the gingerbread houses in the outside trash. He picked his up and left the room. A little while later, I noticed that my daughter's gingerbread house was still on the table. I asked him to throw that one in the trash too. This time I happened to be standing in the entryway by the front door. Much to my surprise and shock, my very smart, good, sweet, honest, almost 5-year-old son stood on the threshold of my front door and chucked his sister's gingerbread house right out onto the sidewalk. It fell to pieces among the remains of his own house that had been previously chucked, unbeknownst to me. "What in the HECK are you doing?!?!?!" I asked him, totally shocked. "Have you been out there tonight, Mom? If I go out there, my toes will fall off!" was his reply.
Good Grief. Good freaking GRIEF!
