It is unclear to me why I am trying to get an eight-year-old boy to put a cloth napkin in his lap each night, but I am. It sits under his knife, on the table, where he thinks it belongs. During this nightly struggle, there is always a question posed:
Me: “When is that napkin going to be placed in your lap?”
Last night’s response: “When I get a pony.”
And then there was this one recently: “When I have my own unicorn.”
Last night, Monkey made progress in his cause; he decided to use eight-year-old logic in his cloth napkin-placing (and using) aversion.
“Mom, it’s the same as asking me to wear a tie to school; it’s just not necessary.”
Bursting into laughter didn’t help to maintain my position, but I could not help myself. The kid is funny.
This isn’t defeat; it’s simply a temporary setback.
It’s a new day.
Let the battle commence.