do wut yur post to do

There’s a growing trend in my household. Those of you with more than one child will be familiar. Some call it sibling rivalry, but I like to call it “Who’s the Bossiest?”

It usually comes out about five minutes into a peaceful play session when one of the kids wants to do something his/her way, and the other disagrees. And then, you know, all hell breaks loose into a screaming match, tears, and then one or both kids running to me with one of the following phrases…

From my daughter:
“MOM! Holden is cheating!”
“MOM! Holden is lying!”
“MOM! Holden hit me!”

and from my son:
“Mom. Member the other day, a long time ago, when you said, um, that you can go DOWN the ladder in Chutes and Ladders. Member dat?”
Me: “Hmmm. Nope, Holden, you can’t go down the ladder, only the slide.”
Holden (with a big, pouty face and tears in his eyes): “Well, to-later (he says this like to-morrow) I’m going down the ladder! OK!”

Then, Devon interjects with the rules of Chutes and Ladders while Holden stands there silently puffing out his chest like a little dragon. Eventually he gets so pissed he just swipes the players off the board and screws up the game for everyone.

Now, my daughter is 22 months older than my son, and like her mother, she’s got the tongue of a litigation attorney. So, she usually talks circles around my son, dropping in exhibit A, the game directions; exhibit B, some actual family value I’ve successfully passed on like no lying/cheating/stealing; or exhibit C, the following sign I found posted to their bedroom door at their grandparent’s house.

For those of you who don’t read Kindergarten, here’s the translation:
Holden’s List (written in the top left corner)
No playing games.
Eat breakfast.
No playing music (notice the music note).
Do what you’re supposed to do.

It’s hard to argue with that list. Especially the “do wut yur post to do” part. If Holden could read it, he would definitely ball it up and throw it away, destroying the evidence. That’s why I plan to take it down and put it in the stash of hundreds of kid drawings I have stacked away in the closet. You know, for my own exhibit A, when I have to explain to the judge why my teenagers decided to drag race through the mall parking lot or something.