Confessions of a daddy

We mostly post the fun-and-happy stories on this blog. You rarely get to see the less-fun-and-less-happy moments. So I thought I'd tell you my stories for today that are, well, less fun and less happy.

My confession is that I have a hard time dealing with Gregory's power plays. He knows just how to get my goat. So today, I finally gave Meaghan a small break, and she took a walk with a friend. (It was a nice 52 degrees or so.) So I got to take care of the kids at home, and Gregory was in rare form. I had given Gregory who knows how many time outs because he kept jumping off the furniture. By the time Meaghan came home, I was pretty frustrated. The kids had turned the house into a big mess, and Meaghan was gone a lot longer than she said she would be. She asked if I was ok, and I said, with a mildly loud voice--ok, maybe not so mildly--"No, I'm not ok, Gregory's acting up and I'm standing in the middle of a PIG PIE!"

Meaghan looked at me for a second, trying hard not to laugh. "Sty. I meant sty."

Later, Gregory once again jumped off the coffee table just as I was saying, with a slightly raised voice, "NO!" Still quite frustrated, I walked over and asked Gregory, with a slightly raised voice, "How many times have I told you not to jump on the couch?"

Gregory looked at me and raised three fingers. Surprised, I said, "Yes, that's right, Gregory, I told you three times. And you got three time outs." Meaghan asked Gregory if he wanted four times outs, and he shook his head no.

Then he held up five fingers. He was apparently planning various activities for the rest of the night that were deserving of five timeouts.