For sale

Xander has been throwing tantrums all morning. It started when Soren put on the exact pair of white underwear he wanted to wear. Mind you we have a whole drawer full of them - but those where the ones he "needed".

I made pancakes with strawberry toppings this morning. First I cut the pancake wrong so now he can't eat it. Then after a few minutes of whining he proclaims in a most hideous complaining voice, "You forgot syrup. I want it now!" (remember the delicious handpicked, homemade strawberry topping that he loves that is already on the pancake?). I then proceeded to have a very familiar conversation on how to get what he wanted and how to ask for it. He has perfected snotty, demanding, entitled statements that I have ethical issues cooperating with. It lasted for a few minutes when he accidentally said "please" among all the demanding. Trying to encourage any positive behavior I quickly changed from my "it would be wise for you to behave" voice, to "helpful nice mom who is ready to listen" voice and said, "oh you said please. I love it when you say please. What can I do for you?" Realizing his own semi-polite mistake (he was whining when he said it), he decided it was better to abort all together then actually do something I wanted him to do. He quickly responded with resolution "noffing."

Did anyone read/memorize "where the sidewalk ends" like I did? If so you will understand this poem I dedicate to my youngest son. Originally it is "sister", but for my needs I have changed it.

For Sale

One son for sale.

One son for sale.

One crying, spying young son for sale.

I am really not kidding.

So who'll start the bidding?

Do I hear a dollar?

A nickle?

A penny?

Oh isn't there. isn't there, isn't there someone who will buy this young son for sale?

This crying spying young son for sale.