I wanted Evan to pick out a color for an art project, and zombie Evan was watching a cartoon that was sucking out his brain, sip by sip. (Ok, it wasn’t THAT bad; it was Go, Diego, Go. And when did we start watching it so much?)
Me: Evan, what color do you want? Red, blue, or yellow? (no response) Evan? (no response) Evan. (I moved straight in front of the TV.) Evan. What color do you want?
Evan: Mommy, GET OUT OF THE WAY!
Me: Excuse me?
Evan: Mommy, get out of the way! I’m watching TV!
Not anymore. Click.
Me: You’re not going to watch TV until you are nice and polite.
Evan: (Stomping out of the family room, up the steps) I’m going to my room! (Just so we’re clear; Evan has to go to his room to deal with any temper tantrums) (Evan stopped outside of the family room and turned around) I’m sorry, Mommy, for yelling and saying get out of my way. (He came back to give me a hug and kiss.)
Me: I know. You were just upset.
Evan: Now. Get out of my way!
I think we have a failure in communication.