Lock It Up

I got home late tonight. As I was wolfing down dinner, I was asking John a ton of questions. Trying to squeeze in a ton of things in a short of period of time as possible as Little Man still hadn't taken a bath and it was pushing 9 PM.

Little Man was also trying to squeeze in as many conversations with me as possible. Juggling 2 conversations at once if very difficult but I managed. Or so I thought.

I wanted Little Man to clear his bowl and cup. He wanted to keep talking to me. No he can't clear and talk at the same time. He's my son.

So I'm sitting there. Trying to explain to him that he needs to clear his bowl and cup and then he can tell me his story. He thought it better to do it in the opposite order. I wasn't having any of it and insisted he listen to me.

He walked up to me and placed his hand over my mouth. I raised my eyebrows (can't do the single eye brow raise still) and reached for his hand. I was about to tell him quite sternly that he was not allowed to do that to me. You know, the whole "I'm the Parent" thing.

Before I could get two words out, he makes a twisting motion with his hand and says: "Lock it up".

I may be the parent but he's got me locked in his sights. I'm done for.