Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Daily Something September 13: Naughty

Daily Something
I am upstairs helping Bekah and Christopher do their schoolwork. Oliver is taking his morning nap and the house is unusually quiet. Porter is nowhere to be heard. He went downstairs pouting about a half hour previous after I told him he couldn't have crayons anymore (he had colored on the TV the night before).
I sent Topher down to look for him and make sure he was alright. Topher came back a few minutes later saying he couldn't find him anywhere. Bekah and I jumped up to go look, and just as we got to the stairs, Porter came walking up.
I asked the mysteriously missing child where he had been and he replied "I don't know." I asked him what he meant. He said, "I can't remember where I was mom." Hmmmm. Either he got knocked out and developed amnesia...OR he was up to something naughty. I was leaning towards the latter. I couldn't get him to answer me though, so I went downstairs expecting the worst.
The kitchen was fine, no food out, nothing spilled. The bathrooms were clean, no water on the floors or counters. In fact everything seemed to be in order.
I really couldn't figure it out. What had he been doing, quietly I might add, for 30 minutes?
A little later I was in my room; and there on the side of the bed where no one could see, all of Bekah's hundreds of Littlest Pet Shop toys were spread all over the floor. Playing with toys in my room is a no no, playing with Bekah's toys without asking is a no no.
Porter looked as surprised as Bekah was to see all the toys there on the floor. He had no idea how they had gotten there.
Later tonight we are on our way home from Costco and he announces; "I don't want to listen to Jesus."
My husband who is much more calm in these kinds of situations luckily took the bait.
Chad; "Why not, don't you want to be good?"
Porter; "No."
Chad; "You want to be naughty? Because Jesus teaches us to be nice and good."
Porter; "Yeah, I just want to be naughty."
Chad; "Okay. But naughty boys don't get privileges. Naughty boys don't get treats, or toys. Naughty boys get punished and have to stay in their beds."
Porter thinks about this for a minute and then says, "Okay. I'll listen to Jesus then."
Just a few moments ago Porter comes in while I am writing this story and hands me a couple pieces of paper with some drawings on them and then walks out.
On his way up the stairs I hear it.
I run up and see two fresh lines of pencil up the hall walls.
He heard me running.
The pencil gets thrown at me.

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