disobedience

Last night, Blake used all the remotes as planes. He told me they were very good, yeah, and that he liked them. I found the first two really easily - to the radio and the DVD player - but couldn't find the TV remote.

I couldn't find it, couldn't find it - searched the flat surfaces, searched the toy boxes, told Blake it was a BIG DEAL that I couldn't find the remote, asked for his help...he was largely useless, but he did want me to change the channel.

Despondent at a future of schlepping to and from the television to change a channel - and no mute! - I threw myself onto the floor in a state of extreme distress.

I found the remote tucked JUST under the couch. Singing and dancing ensued.
******
I've been telling Blake stories at bedtime and other times, stories including dragons, trains, and a heroic knight in shining armor with blond hair and blue eyes. He always wins.

I throw in random stories of Daddy and Momma, and I try to make them interesting to a three-year-old. Tonight, after Blake the knight flicked the dragon on the nose and saved the day, Blake the insomniac played with me a little. I asked if I could have a kiss and a hug, and he emphatically shook his head no. I stood up and said, "Ok," and Blake quickly sat up and said, "No, Momma, I just need a kiss because we can't disobey God."

Yes, that's in fact what I was trying to teach you...kind of.