I dozed off around 11pm. Big E, who had been in and out of his bedroom all night, came in to ask me something and scared the living daylights out of me. I was on edge as Mr. Yoy was out of town for work and I was just waiting around to be murdered.
I mumbled something to Big E and told him he could stay up all night, but just stay in his room.
Only in the light of day was I able to see the damage to his bedroom. It was like a book bomb went off in there. Big E has a giant canvas bin in his bedroom filled with books. Or at least he use to have one.
I asked him repeatedly today to go to his room and put all of his books away. I feel like it was a very specific request and something that would take maybe ten minutes to knockout.
Big E was filled to the brim with excuses.
LITTLE E DID IT! (Thanks for lying straight to my face.)
THE BIN JUST TIPPED OVER. I DIDN'T DO IT.
MY ARMS HURT, YOU HAVE TO DO IT.
I snuck upstairs before bath time and DID do it. And then I hoisted up all four hundred pounds of books and locked them away in a closet. I found a faint sense of satisfaction knowing I wouldn't have to read that damn Chick-fil-A Helen Keller book again. That girl was such a b*tch.
A bathed and jammied Big E returned to his bedroom to pick out tonight's reading selection. He was immediately alarmed to see all of his books gone.
WHAT HAPPENED TO ALL OF MY BOOKS?
I played coy.
WHAT DO YOU THINK HAPPENED TO ALL OF YOUR BOOKS?
And he knew.
YOU HAD TO CLEAN THEM UP AND THEN YOU HID THEM.
But this is the amazing part of the story. He was upset about it, don't get me wrong. I told him he'd have a chance to earn his books back with examples of good behavior tomorrow. And he didn't melt down. There was no Academy Award nominated performance to witness. He chose a library book to read instead and then happily went to sleep.
I don't know if it was complete exhaustion or if he had a moment of maturity. But I'd like to think it was the latter.