Blah, Blah, Blah

In an effort to get Sam to do what I want, I often launch into long, rational, emotional diatribes. It rarely works but I continue to do it (so who's smarter, I wonder?).

Case in point ... Yesterday his class went to see Cars on a field trip. I know they took the bus to see a movie but that's it. When I picked him up yesterday he got in his seat and immediately picked up his Cars comic book. I told him I wanted to talk about the field trip first. "Who drove the bus? Who did you sit by on the bus? Who did you sit next to at the movie? Did you eat lunch there or come back to school for lunch?" Just the basics, but no response.

(Begin diatribe ...)

"So, Sam. You know how Mommy drops you off at school in the morning? And then when your school day is over and my work day is over, I pick you up. And that's a long time from start to finish? Well, I don't know what you do during that time because I'm not with you. Even though you don't think it is important I like to know who you played with and what you had for lunch and if you fell on the playground. I like to know these things. Plus, if Gramma Becky calls and asks 'How's Sam?' I like to be able to tell her that you played with Garrett and had ravioli for lunch and read a new book in circle time, but unless you tell me these things I don't know what you did. And sometimes that makes me sad. So, when you get in the car after your busy day, and I want to ask you just a few questions, will you answer? Then I won't ask anymore that day. I expect that you won't want to tell me about your day when your 13 but when you are 4, I want to know. OK?"

"OK ... Mom?"

"Yes, Sam?"

"When am I 13?"