The other day I wrote a post about how my five year old nephew can be really sweet sometimes. That was based on something super sweet he said Friday night at suppertime.
Then Saturday morning came, and he woke up hungry, and asked my sister, his mom, for oatmeal. And when 5 minutes later she hadn't brought it to him yet, he shouted out at her "MOM. Do. Your. Job." And when she said "WHAT did you just say to me?!?!" he said, in a slightly softer voice but laden with sarcasm, "Mom PLEASE do your job."
And then during the course of the day on Saturday, he proceeded to have about ten holy tantrums, shouting and crying himself red in the face over the most mundane things, carrying on loud enough to wake the dead. Or bust an eardrum. Definitely enough to make the rest of us drink heavily at any rate.
And then Sunday came, and I took him to a small neighborhood park with a pond and lots of ducks, ducks that are used to people being around them and not bothering them and waddle all over the place being cute and quiet, and my nephew ran through them all, chasing them, tormenting them, flapping his arms and shouting "RRRRAAAAAOOOOOWWWWWRRRRR!!!!! RRRRRAAAAOOOOOOWWWWRRRRR!!!!!! RRRRRAAAAOOOOOOWWWWWWRRRR!!!!!!", making all the poor ducks run away. And when everyone else in the park gave us dirty looks and I fussed at him and told him to stop scaring the ducks, he said in the most reasonable little voice, "but it's fun."
Yeah, maybe I don't really want kids one day after all.
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