This afternoon I asked the kids to pick up their crap off the living room floor in anticipation of her arrival. "No!" came Lyla's impassioned reply. In her defense, most of the mess looked suspiciously like the doings of her brother. It's tough with a two-year-old because he's infinitely more adept at making messes, yet also comically inept at cleaning them up. That'll change, I suspect. Or it won't.
Anyway, in accordance with the latest research on effective parenting techniques, I offered them candy for cleaning. Lyla's philosophy on cleaning switched directions faster than John Kerry on a windsurfing board. Rowan, however, only talked a big talk ("I keen too!") without ever actually cleaning a thing. So Lyla got a treat, and he didn't. More great parenting!
"I wan Mommy!"
"We all do, Rowan."
"Rowan, I cleaned, so I get a treat."
"Lyla, don't rub it in."
"Daddy, I want two treats."
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
Luckily, before Julie got home we pulled together and overcame our differences.
"Mommy! Did you bring me a prize?" I think she meant present. And indeed, the present/prize was a sparkly princess tutu skirt thing.
Rowan got a book and, most importantly, his mother's arms.
They are way too precious!
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