"Yes, Pickle." I sigh, getting off the couch and heading down the hallway to Isaiah's room. It's 8:33pm and this is the fifth time Isaiah has called me or Richard since we put him down for bed at 8pm.
"I'm coughing." He says when I arrive, sitting up in his bed, his face balled in a stubborn resolve.
"No, you're not, baby."
"Yes, I am. I need water."
"Isaiah, no more water." I said, knowing water right before bed usually means a middle of the night accident.
"But, I'm coughing."
"No you're not."
"Ack, Ack." He pretends, trying his best to make a believable cough.
"That was a pretend cough, pickle. Mommy is going back to the living room with Daddy. Close your little eyes and go to sleep."
He nods, lies down and closes his eyes tightly.
Less than five minutes later....
"Mommyyyyyyyyy, Daddddyyyyyyyy...."
"Coming, buddy." Richard says getting up from the couch. I follow slowly behind.
"Excuse me, I burped." Isaiah states.
"Okay..." Richard trails, both of us stifling laughter.
"I buurrrpppedd..." Isaiah wines.
"You're excused, pickle."
He nods and lies back down.
"I'm going to sleep now" He says snuggling up with his green monkey and blue blanket.
"We love you, buddy." Richard says smiling.
"I love you, too."
Three year olds....
4 comments:
I think I was about three years old when I would get out of bed and ask my dad for "cheese toast". He would make it for me, too! :) Ah, those were the days!
OMG Dylan is the SAME way! Except its, "Mommy! I farted!" Ughhh BOYS! hahaha.
*Smiling* and remembering. How cute.
Pickle. Pickle and stiffled laughter. love sharing a moment with you.
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