as i was folding laundry, i threw a pair of asher's pants on the couch next to him. i had planned on making him put them on after i finished putting all the other clothes away because it's the middle of the afternoon and he's still running around in his diaper. i mean, he's two for goodness sakes. that boy's gotta wear pants sometimes. shewf, he's just like his daddy... heh. anyways, i threw the pants on the couch beside him and...
asher: no trow it, mama!
asher: no. trow. it. mama. (he said it slower this time and enunciated...)
me: ok, i'm sorry, bud. i was just throwing them over there so you could put them on.
asher: here, mama. put it back. (he hands the pants back to me)
me: no, you need to wear them.
asher: no need it, mama. put it back.
my two year old son pretends to be hard of hearing when i ask him not to throw things, but apparently he DOES listen. he's listening close enough to repeat this very same reverse conversation that i have with him when he starts throwing things-complete with stern, slow enunciation. i'm raising a selective hearing little stinker who is using my own mama serious voice against me. heaven help me. i hope baby nate isn't over there sitting in his bouncy secretly taking pointers from his big brother...