Before we left to head back to Charlotte this morning, I had to coax Miles into completing his morning routine. Fortunately, with the weather a bit unpredictable this weekend, we had an unopened package of marshmallows that, while intended to be toasted over a fire, were now just waiting to be consumed raw. And Miles knew it.
“If I brush my teeth,” Miles negotiated masterfully, “then can I have a marshmallow?”
“Sure,” I immediately relented. “You can have a marshmallow.”
Incapable of leaving well-enough alone, he had to make one thing clear first. Looking at my mother, he said, “And GRAMMY don’t get one. ONLY me!”
“Miles!” I exclaimed. “That’s not nice! Think of all the things Grammy did for you this weekend!”
“Like what?” Miles had the audacity to say.
“Well she made you mac and cheese last night.”
Without missing a beat, Miles replied, “Well actually I didn’t like it because it was crusty.”
“She got you all those fireworks.”
“Well I didn’t like them because they were too loud.”
My mom shrugged, and I continued. “She gave you a place to sleep.”
So quickly you’d think he had rehearsed in advance, “Well it was uncomfortable and I had to sleep in the big bed instead.”
We were both laughing at this point, but trying to hide it. “But she let you use her TV all weekend to watch Bluey!” I said, pointing to the television that at that moment was displaying an episode of Bluey.
“Well it was boring and I didn’t like it.”
There’s just no pleasing some people!
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 