Just Say No: The Diary of a Threenager

Dear Diary,

Oh! I’m awake! I’m still super tired and it would probably be a good idea if I got more rest which means….it must be time to get up! I know what The Mom says about “sleeping” but I doubt anything has ever gone horribly wrong because a three year old was overtired, Diary.

Hmmm…my bum feels wet. I guess I should have gone pee in the toilet last night when The Mom and The Dad told me to. Oh well. I’ll just take my soaking Pull-Up off and leave it here in the doorway to my bedroom. If I’m lucky, someone will step in it. Preferably my older sister. I’M HILARIOUS, Diary!

I need some clothes. Let’s open this drawer. Oooh, look- my sister’s clothes. Jackpot, Diary! I’ll put these on. I bet she keeps the best stuff on the bottom. I should throw everything else on the floor until I find something good. I think this is her favourite shirt. Perfect! I will try to get a LOT of paint on it later.

I should leave the drawers wide open in case I need something from them again today, or tomorrow…or really ever. The Mom told me before that this is dangerous. Oh, Diary- sometimes The Mom is absolutely no fun.

Hey! Where is The Mom?

The Mom must still be asleep. I will loudly storm into her room and check. There is The Mom sleeping peacefully next to my baby brother. That’s no good. I wonder which of my moves I should use to wake her:  “Close talking angry stage whisper of ‘ARE YOU AWAKE YET?? WAAAAAKE UUUUUP, MOOOOOM!!'” or “Aggressive bed jumping while yelling ‘CHA CHA CHA JELLY JELLY!!'”?

It feels like a “Cha Cha Cha” kind of morning.

Huh…The Mom does not look happy to see me. That’s weird.

The Mom is making toast for breakfast. I thought I said I wanted waffle? Maybe I didn’t say it out loud but yesterday or the day before or sometime this month I thought in my head that I wanted waffle? Well, anyway…

“I WANT WAFFLE!! I NEVER WANT TOAST!!”

Oh, now The Mom is making me a waffle. That was too easy. I’m going to refuse to eat the waffle OR the toast. Hah!

I’m hungry. Instead of eating something, I will just refuse to go to the park. I don’t like the park.

Ooooh! I love the park. Look, Diary, A PUUUUPPY!  I will refuse to leave the park.

If I take my boots off and throw them, The Mom cannot leave the park. Yes, Diary, you’re right- sometimes it is hard to be so much smarter than everyone else.

The Mom is offering Cheddar Bunnies in exchange for putting my boots on. Done, but now I have her just where I want her…

The Mom says I can’t just have Cheddar Bunnies for lunch. The Mom is being unreasonable. I will show her unreasonable….

That did not go as expected. We have moved quickly from lunch time to nap time. How do I get out of naptime again, Diary? Oh, right- I poop in my underwear.

And….mission accomplished! No more naptime.

I’m sleepy. Being sleepy makes me miserable. If I make someone more miserable, will I be less miserable, Diary? Only one way to find out….

There’s my big sister’s Lego tower….and there’s my sister’s Lego tower on the floor. Oops.

Uh oh, Diary- now she’s crying. Well played, sister, well played. This could go badly for me. Time to pull out the big guns…

“I LOVE YOU, MOMMY! YOU ARE THE BEST! CAN WE HAVE A CUDDLE?”

And BOOM- on the couch, with juice, watching Paw Patrol and snuggling!! WORKS. EVERY. TIME.

Oooh, chicken fingers for dinner! Wait, what is this? Who put ketchup on my chicken fingers in a sideways line instead of in a series of dots? This is the worst thing that has ever happened, Diary. EVER. Why would The Mom do this to me?

“THE KETCHUP IS WROOOOONG!! THESE CHICKEN FINGERS ARE THE WORST!! IT’S POISON!!!”

You know what, Diary? The Mom is giving me a time out but clearly I was right because I threw those chicken fingers on the floor and even the floor wouldn’t eat them.

No treats after dinner? Fine, I’ll just finally pee in the potty and then The Mom and The Dad have to give me jellybeans. That is the rule, Diary. It’s called an “incentivizing”. I have no idea what that means, but I do know it is AWESOME. Bahhahaah- suckers.

The Dad says it is 5 minutes to bed time.

This is an outrage. MY LIFE IS SO UNFAIR!! But you know what The Mom and The Dad can’t do, Diary? That’s right- put me to bed if I’m naked. See you later, pj’s- it’s my favourite time of the day- “Naked Protest Time”!

“I WANT THREE MINUTES TO BEDTIME!!”

The Dad is mumbling something about five minutes being more than three minutes. I’m confused. If I’m confused it means I am not yelling loud enough.

That also did not go as expected. Apparently, it is now zero minutes to bedtime? I guess The Dad really wants to spend more time with me because I am pretty sure this will not go down as quickly as he planned.

Bring it on, The Dad. I can do this all night.

Well, Diary, as we both know, I’m not good with the concept of time but I hear The Mom say “Oh My God! It’s already been an hour- I’m getting more wine”, The Dad says he is cancelling Easter, Christmas, Halloween and my birthday if I don’t go to bed right now, my baby brother is crying, and my older sister is sleeping in the guest room because I talk too much. I think this means I win?

Gosh, Diary, I’m sleepy, but I should probably try and sneak up into the top bunk just one more time….

XOXO

-Evie, Three Year Old Extraordinaire

P.S. Don’t tell anyone, but tomorrow I am only going to eat food that has been cut evenly into triangles. It is going to be so much FUN!!

 

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