The Emperor's New Clothes

If we needed to discipline Wyatt. I mean really teach him a lesson. We wouldn't bust his ass. Or put him in time-out. We wouldn't even take away one of his favorite toys. What we would do is this. Make him wear jeans.

Seriously.

Only he doesn't call them jeans. He calls them hard pants. Which goes to show you how damn right freakish he is when it comes to tactile sensations from his clothing. In fact, I've never seen anything like it. Ever.

Which is why this very Mr. Mom morning we were having it out over socks.

"ARRRRRRRRGGGGGG!" Wy raged.

"What?" I asked.

"I hate these socks!!!! You always give me these socks!!!!"

"Dude. Those socks are from your drawer. Mom put them in there. They are your socks. They are the only kind of socks we have. They are the same brand. Bought at the same place."

"ARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGG!"

"Put them on. We need to leave. I have to get dressed."

I could hear Wy all the way from the back of the house. He was in the front room, huffing and puffing, getting more and more mad. Finally he screamed in anger which sent me flying out of the bedroom, down the hall shouting, "WYATT! PUT ON YOUR CLOTHES AND GET DRESSED, NOW!"

By my now, I was in front of him, where he was semi-dressed and doing this Three Stooges sort of run around the floor in a circle type move trying to get on one of his shoes sans sock.

It was funny. Seriously funny. Enough to make me not so mad.

So I calmly said, "Wyatt. Can I help you? We need to leave soon. I need to get dressed, and you need to get dressed. You are frustrating me."

At that his face turned bright red. Flush with fury, as he stood up with a shoe in each hand (except for one sock on his right foot he was naked from the waist down) and said in a controlled, but extremely pissed off voice, "You are frustrating me!"

I lost it.

Seriously. I couldn't help it. I laughed. Hard.

And there's one thing you should know about the Younger Boy.

He doesn't like it when you laugh.

"STOP LAUGHING AT ME!" he shrieked. "OR WITH ME."

"I'm sorry, son," I said laughing. "I'm sorry."

"Do you want me to throw my shoes at you?"

"Dude. If you do that, you'll get in trouble. Don't go there. I'll stop laughing. I apologize. It's funny though."

"IT IS NOT FUNNY! STOP IT OR I'LL THROW MY SHOES AT YOU!"

"Ok. I'll stop. But if you throw your shoes at me you'll be in big trouble."

"You'll take a toy away from me?"

I could see his mind spinning, trying to figure out if the consequence was worth braining me for laughing with one of his new shoes.

"No."

I smiled as I paused for full dramatic effect.

"I'll make you wear hard pants."

Until I BLOG again...Maybe it sounds mean, but I really don't think so.