The boys decided to color yesterday afternoon. Fine. I got the crayons down (they are not always accessible since I try to discourage the boys from expressing themselves all over the walls), Peter got a pad of paper, and Cooper got the flattened diaper box that he draws on. This coincided with some phone calls I had to make. I stayed nearby, but occasionally moved out of sight. At one point I walked into the dining room (the location of the artistic spree) just in time to see Peter grab handful after handful of crayons and chuck them across the room as he yelled, "Cooper's making a mess!"
He spent the next hour and a half vehemently denying he had strewn the crayons all over the floor.
I told Peter that he needed to clean-up the mess that he had made. Well, of course since he was holding to his assertion that he hadn't done the deed, he was quite indignant about being asked to clean it up. Multiple time-outs were administered, dinner was delayed, at least two calls were made to Bryan in order to maintain my composure.
Finally, he had about half the crayons picked up. He announced that he was worn-out and needed to stop until he had more energy. I guess I wasn't convincing enough when I told him that I did plenty of stuff without energy, because he didn't buy it. He began pleading for help. No, not help. He wanted me to come clean the crayons up for him.
I sometimes wonder if it's a blessing or a curse that I'm just as stubborn as Peter is.
I did not give in and kept saying that I knew he could clean up the mess if he stopped using his energy to complain and just went to work.
Peter: But I need help.
Me: I know you can do it Peter.
Peter: (in his whiniest voice) But I caaaaan't. I need heeeelp.
Me: (thinking I was being clever) Have
Franklin help you.
Peter: Mom! I can't. He's not real. I need someone solid.
He had me there.