Buttons

You love buttons. If it's a button, you must press it. I can't tell you how many times we go to the driveway to find out you opened the doors to the van with the remote buttons. It's a good thing we live in a decent neighborhood. Buttons on the TV, CD player, remotes, phones, toys. You can turn on / off all your electronic toys. If it has a button, you know how to operate it.

This includes Mommy.

I have a lot of buttons and you know how to to press each and every one of them.
You know the exact moment and tone to whine in so I will give in. You know how to look at me with your golden eyes with wonder and sorrow. You know that when you declare "no!" we will still love you. You know that we will allow you to eat your dinner in three different chairs. You know how to cry to bring out the most sympathy. You know how to push all my buttons.

James came for a visit yesterday. James had a wonderful day playing downstairs, playing in your room, going to the playground. You? You were a brat all day. You wouldn't share. You wouldn't allow James to ride in your stroller (even though you have 2), you started playing with toys you haven't touched in months, just because James was interested. At dinner with Jessica and Ashley, you couldn't stay seated. You were pushing my buttons all day. Oh the pictures tell a different story, look how sweet James and Nora look together! They hold hands going down the slide together, they hug, they play so well together. For James, yes. He was so happy and amicable. You were a spoiled brat who needed to watch an episode of the "Get Along Gang."






I wonder....
Is it just your age? Is it that Daddy and I have spoiled you? Is it jealousy of a younger, handsome man? Or is it your love of buttons? God only knows.