And I can hear the negotiations begin even before she finishes her sentence.
"But, Mommy," he cries between brushes. "I'm just sooo tired." [After 4 days off, I would imagine so.]
And when Amy doesn't reply, he tries another angle.
"Keep brushing, boy," she says sternly.
"But my tummy hurts," he whines. Brush, brush, brush.
Silence from the Momminator.
And it's a virtual certainty that Saia shifts directly into the Angel Child with the Glowing Halo when he's heading down this path, knowing full well that she'll reap all the glorious praises and be able to taunt him with it mercilessly for the rest of the day.
"All done," she sings sweetly as she bounces off the step stool and stands by the back door, all dressed, bed made, hair brushed, and ready to go.
"Great job, baby girl," Mommy says, tossing a sideways glance back at the procrastinator.
"UGH!!!" he yells as she shoves his Lion King toothbrush and Wall-E toothpaste back into the fingerprint covered medicine cabinet.
And I can almost hear the wheels churning in his head. There's just got to be a way.
And the in a much calmer voice he says, "Mommy?"
"Mommy, can I tell you something?" as he stands there, hair still unkempt, with no shirt, no shoes, and a thin strand of icky blue gel still clinging to his chin.
"Of course, son," she says in that exasperated tone that he knows all too well, but has yet to figure out how to completely sidestep.
"I just don't think I'm going to go to school today."
And the last thing I heard was the crashing sound of thunderbolts and a not-so-mild volcanic eruption.