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- Daydreaming of pillows and punching bags (10/24/14)
- A light at the end of my busy tunnel (4/18/14)
- When, not if, we create a time machine (2/28/14)
- Celebrating a 'polar vortex' of my own (2/7/14)
A simple little 'Do whatever you want party'
Delcan's first week back has been grand. His great adventure away from home was just what he needed. He has renewed excitement for every boring old toy he owns, excited to go anywhere in town, especially excited when he sees his friends and even excited for school to begin.
Since his excited state has primarily been accompanied by some of his best behavior, when he asked if he could have a "Do whatever you want party" earlier this week, I didn't hesitate to allow it.
Declan setup a little campsite for himself in the living room, equipped with his sleeping bag, favorite pillow and laptop computer.
He invited everyone to join him for his "Do whatever you want party" and Grandma, who is visiting for the week, took up a spot on the couch next to him.
As I said, I had no problem agreeing to the event, just hearing him say the name with such formality is hilarious. I was a bit surprised when Declan had no problem with me choosing to go to bed early as my part, in doing whatever I wanted for the evening. He apparantly takes these parties quite literally as I found out.
On my way to bed I kissed him good night and said "don't stay up too late."
He immediately turned his attention away from the laptop and sat up in his sleeping bag. "But I am going to stay up too late. It's a 'do whatever you want' party," he said with a concerned tone.
I had to chuckle a little before replying, "Yeah I know, just don't stay up so late that you're grumpy in the morning."
Declan quickly chirped back, "You said I could have a 'Do whatever you want party,' that means I can do whatever I want," his tone becoming increasingly irritated.
"Dec I know, you can do whatever you want. I was just saying, try not to stay up too late." I could tell my response had not eased his concern at all because he threw both hands in the air in frustration as he said, "But I am going to stay up too late!"
I paused for a moment, how had the simplest good night phrase, one that my mother used with regularity when I was boy, become so confusing. Uncertain where to go with the conversation, which I had never intended to develop into a conversation, I kissed him on the forehead and told him all was good, "Stay up as late as you want buddy."
He smiled and turned his attention back to his laptop as I made my way to bed.
I was awakened just a few hours later by the little guy sleepily sneaking into bed next to me. Even in my groggy state I knew there was no use telling him to go to his own bed, I was certain a sleepy Declan would still be more than capable of reminding me of the powers he had been granted by the "whatever you want" party.