It's a darn good thing I love my four year old, because he's going through a 'twerp' stage again.
Tonight everything was lovely - he greeted me at the door, gave me a hug, told me about his day, and we talked for a minute before Bugs Bunny snagged his attention again. Bear (who had been home all day with the kids) got ready to go see his Dad (my FIL is in the hospital - pneumonia, which has become an annual event this time of year) kissed the kids goodbye (Cass supremely unconcerned) and went on his merry way.
Half an hour later, I turned off the tv and announced it was time for bed. R headed for the stairs (she just thinks it's cool to read books in Cass's room before bed) and my boy, the one who had been so pleasant, fell immediately into a whiny sniveling heap.
He shot me an injured look. "But where's Daddy?"
I resisted the urge to look under the couch cushions (Nope, no Daddy here!) and told him Daddy had gone to see Papa. When Daddy got home, I was sure he would come and kiss Cass good night.
Cassidy was not happy with this news. 'But I want Daddy!'
No, Cass. Now come on, up the stairs. Do you want to be first?
No eager footsteps behind me. I waited. Rosey shifted from foot to foot like she was waiting for a gun to go off so she could speed up the stairs.
His brow was all scrunched up now. Talking through his teeth, he said 'But I want Daddy!'
I clipped my teeth together. "And I want you to go upstairs!"
Even Rosey was still. I expected to hear Western gunfight music come up.
The cowpoke in the Spiderman pyjamas moved first. 'Oh, all right!"
Stomp stomp, up the stairs.
Three stories and prayers later, I turned out the light, gathered the baby, and whispered goodnight.
A little voice came floating out the door after me.
"Daddy would have read more books."
See? Whatta twerp.
It's a good thing I like him.