Sam is a big boy. He is poop-in-the-potty big. He is stay-dry-through-the-night big. He is get-himself-dressed big. (See above.)
We played the "big boy" card so often while trying to get him to do those things, that he now thinks he is make-his-own-bedtime big, drive-the-car big, run-for-President big.
Me: No, Samuel. You may not have that [permanent marker]. That's not for little boys.
Sam: I am a big boy.
Me: Not big enough.
Sam: But, I pooped in the restaurant potty.
How can I even start to explain this to him?
Well - I haven't been around for a while, and I've just caught up with the last few of your posts. Samuel's clearly a pretty sorted person! We do that Saturday morning, staying in bed, letting the kids sort out their fights thing. Love it.
ReplyDeleteSometimes I think that's all that's required to be President. lol.
ReplyDeleteLove the shoes...doesn't look too comfortable to walk that way, but makes a really cute portrait of independence!
Ummmm, sometimes the things we say come back to bite us in the KEESTER!!!!
ReplyDeleteYeah, that one does come back to bite us sometimes! Big is a relative term - would that make sense to Sam? Ha ha.
ReplyDelete