After I’d put Little E to bed tonight, I could’ve sworn I heard him talking like he was lecturing somebody with utmost seriousness. I had allowed him to pick his bedtime music as a “completed chore” reward, so of course he’d picked the Star Wars soundtrack. But what the heck was all this talking? Who was he wheeling and dealing with?
I went around the corner, and boy, did I find out. He had his stuffed animals all sitting in rows on his bed and facing him, and he was giving them a straight-faced, very serious pre-flight briefing on how to destroy the Death Star.
A few minutes later, when my back was turned, he got out of bed to go use the bathroom, which meant he had to walk past his mother, whom he calmly informed that “I am the man born with jaguar eyes.”
Some of this stuff, I know exactly where he gets it. Some of it I lay no claim to. 😆 Either way, it’s all I can do to keep my Stern Dad Face deployed properly to tell him to get back in bed.
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