Screaming to Dine By

This evening we ate dinner without Scott--he was holed up in the bedroom on a rare business call at the dinner hour. I made the boys go wash their hands again because we had all been out on a walk. Blane fussed and fumed, because he had already washed his hands and had NO REASON to wash again! I finally got him up the stairs and washing, though he was loudly protesting. Scott came out with The Look, so I went and snatched Blane, now in a hateful rage, and attempted to get him to wash at the kitchen sink. It was hopeless, so I deposited him in the corner and threatened to hold him there. So through dinner, he screamed and cried. Every few minutes he said, "I'm done!"

I replied, "Are you ready to let me help you wash your hands at the kitchen sink."

"NO!!!!!" he screams.

"Well, sorry." The boys and I go on munching tacos. This repeats about 5-7 times. Finally I get the surrender: "Yes."

I washed him up and snuggled him, now that he was docile and crying. Poor kid. It's tough when you think you should rule the world and you find out you don't.