Then he wanted me to stay in there with him, but of course I couldn't, because I had to pick up the string. Clearly, if one has to be picking up the mess created by others, one can not also be laying in bed at the same time. Again, he failed to see the utter logic in this and screamed MORE, not less. And that's not the end of the insanity. He began hollering for an imaginary toy. It's a green squeaking toy shaped like a star THAT HE HAS NEITHER OWNED NOR SEEN. EVER. He calls it 'Squeaky' and CANNOT POSSIBLY LIVE WITHOUT IT.
How do people live like this? With this complete and total lack of reason and a propensity to rail ever louder, as if sheer volume will suddenly render an absolutely ridiculous and indefensible position rational. Oh, HOLY HELL. I just realized the intellect of my four year old bears more than a passing resemblance to that of Newt Gingrich. AND that little charmer Michele Bachmann. On the plus side, for me, at least the small boy will grow out of it.
Oh yeah, here is a picture of the 'magic' that was made in the bathroom, and damn if it doesn't remind me of the Ryan budget.