It's 5:54 am. I'm lying in bed, and I hear coughing from Cole's room. Riis is awake next to me, flopping around and doing that goofy grinning thing that they do at this age.
Cole: (coughing, whining) "Maaama, I want menicin."
Me: (getting up, baby on hip) "Good morning, honey. Would you like some milk?"
Cole: (fake crying) "No! I want menicin! I'm sicky."
Me: (sighing) "You have a cold. You can't have medicine every day."
Cole: (totally forgetting about medicine) "I want miiiilk!"
Me: (shifting baby to get gallon of milk out of fridge): "Can you ask
nicely, please?"
Cole: (already in the living room, ignoring me): "I want a show I like.
On the big tv."
Me: (putting milk down): "Sweetie, remember? Our tv is broken until
the man comes to fix it on Saturday."
Cole: "Nooooooooooo!" Crying, adding in a little foot-stomping. "I want
Scooby Doo! I want Cars! I want....Nemo. I want it on the computer! (??)
Me: "Sorry, honey, but it's broken. Do you want to play in your room with your trains?"
Cole: (assessing situation, realizing I'm not lying about the
television): "I want an M&M."
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