Big E: Recycling His Party Tricks

I am patient.

I am patient.

I am patient.

Sorry, I just had to squeeze in that mantra to maintain some sanity this evening.

Big E spent the last thirty minutes before bedtime repeating every word, laugh, eye roll, middle finger (joking, maybe) that I said/did/emoted.

It drove me to the depths of madness I have not yet experienced as a mother.  I always say that sleep deprivation is a legitimate form of torture, but until you've been mimicked by a precocious four-year old, you haven't experienced the true meaning of the word.

This is not the first time I've experienced the pleasure of Big E's antics, it had just been such a long time, I thought (hoped) he had moved on from this childish game.

A few pointers for my son who will eventually read this:

1)  I feed you.  Food.  Don't make me mad.  

2)  Don't parrot me as I prepare to floss your teeth.  I will be sloppy. It will hurt.  But you already know this after tonight.

3)  Bedtime stories will be canceled.  I didn't want to read that stupid Chick-Fil-A Helen Keller book to begin with, but I'm sure as sh*t not going to listen to you repeat it back to me word-for-word.

I think I've finally cooled down.  As always, thanks for listening!

Amen.

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