And then the realization dawns.

OK.

Sunday (being Mothers' Day -- remind me to tell you of my KICKASS BRUNCH -- at Uncle Joke's house) we sat down with NOS and pronounced sentence.

Since he had been an angel the past week, my wife we "counted" it towards time served. Fine. In any event he is to have exactly:

No television,
No computer games
No video games
No play dates
No swimming
No sleep over
No parties and
No movies

We have scheduled Saturday library trips wherein we will choose reading material for him, to read after dinner and before bedtime.

(Oh! I managed to include a rule in this punishment that any whining or moping, etc. will add the week we took off the sentence automatically back. This includes any questions that starts off with "But why do I...")

He is to take out the trash, the recycling and keep the playroom and their room* clean regardless of who made the mess. Any toys of his found on the floor will be summarily donated or thrown away. Hell, I may even give 'em away on this blog. He has to wash a car on on the weekends, and bring in the hamper to the laundry.

Now, seeing as how this hit on the day we were having a very late lunch (since we had a kickass brunch ovah heah) at his aunt's and there would be all his cousins splashing merrily about Aunt J's pool...well, it didn't go over so well. NOS whined, moaned, moped, sobbed, shook his widdle fist, cursed the gods and fates and otherwise searched frantically for ways to make an emotional nuisance of himself. Finally he came up to where I was reading and threw a wadded up piece of paper at me and stomped off.

I unfurled the flag to read his shot across my bow:

"I thought you were the coolest dad. Guess I was wrong."

So, not being one to tarry, I sent him up to his room until otherwise directed. (I was almost done with the chapter and didn't want to interrupt the reading further.) About 20 minutes later I gave him a reprieve and explained that what he just did -- and more importantly, why he did it -- was terrible. Worse, he was just compounding the matter. I gave him the old "drop the shovel" routine. My wife jumped in and We explained to him the possibility of getting an additional week off for good behavior, but that implied, y'know, behaving himself.

So that was that.

Just reading it drains me all over again.

-J.

* When we moved we asked them if they would rather have a room each or share a room -- bunk beds -- and have the other as a playroom. It was no contest.