After an entire morning of being a royal pain in the rear end, Ryan just told Liam he can't go to a birthday party this afternoon.
The boy got up at 6:45 which is offensive enough considering this one day of the week when we don't have to set any kind of alarm. It is now 11:30. In less than five hours, he's managed to destroy the toy room by dumping toys all over the floor. He's upturned not one, but three puzzles on the foyer floor. He's dumped another puzzle on the living room coffee table. He's antagonized and hit his sister. He's antagonized his little brother. He's got into the wrapping paper and unwound an entire spool of ribbon. He's used a stool to grab a pair of scissors (forbidden to him since he cut up a book a few months ago) and then proceeded to run with them when I tried to get them back.
After being sent to his room, he came back out without permission saying he'd be nice. We told him to go back to his room and he screamed, "I SAID I'M BEING NICE!"
So he's going to miss the birthday party. He tried to change our minds by making his bed and cleaning the toy room.
Sometimes they have to learn the hard way.
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