Out of the Mouths of Babes

Shorty.

He asked me to help him dig through the "cars box" to find two cars that have somehow disappeared. We dug. No cars.

He picked up the box to take it back to his room and put it away -- such a sweet and obedient child, my third one.

He tripped in the doorway of his room, sending cars rolling across the floor in all directions. After a moment of screaming, followed by a moment of silent contemplation of the mess, he clomped his way back to me.

Shorty: I need you to pick up all those cars. Then give me a kiss. Because that's your job.
Me: That's my job?
Shorty: Yes. To clean the cars then give me a kiss.
Me: Okay, buddy, let's go clean up the cars.
Shorty: No. You need to do it by yourself. It's your problem. It's not my problem.

Like I said...sweet, obedient...

Oh, boy.