FLASHBACK: August, 2013
“Look, daddy, everybody’s mad at you. And no one is gunna talk to you. And you’re gunna cry like a little baby!!!
Now you’re gunna go to time out, ok? And you’re gunna be really sad, ok? And I’m gunna laugh, OK?!?!”
This is what happens when we try to get billie to eat her dinner. Instead of saying “no thank you” this is what we get.
And every time she said “ok?” She made him respond in the affirmative before she continued.
I’m raising a sadist.
FLASHBACK: February 11, 2014
Me: “Dude. How is our dog always ending up with Cheez-its in her crate?”
Billie: “Well, mommy. I think her was hungry.”
Me: “If *she* was hungry, she can eat her doggy food. I mean, this bag was opened so cleanly.”
Billie: “She opened it with her doggie claws.”
Me: “Oh, yea? Did she also magically levitate to the top shelf of the pantry to retrieve the bag of Cheez-its from the closed box?”
Billie: “No. She got her doggie friends to come in here and make her steps and she walked up to the top shelf, opened the box with her teef, and got the bag.”
Me: “…Billie. Is there anything you want to tell me?”
Billie: (thinks a moment) “Yes. Jazzie’s doggie friends also ate the cake in the refrigerator and den frew your shoes in the trash.”
It was my last good pair of shoes, too. The others have *magically disappeared* as well. I’m going to have to ban all imaginary doggie friends in order to keep my wardrobe in tact.
Also: my kid totally went to school with a belly full of cake and Cheez-its this morning. Sigh.
A+ parenting, ya’ll.