One more minute?

That’s the popular phrase in my home, spoken by two boys who are constantly trying to ‘buy’ more time for whatever activity going on at the moment. It could be playtime with neighbors in our backyard, watching tv, the Wii, or if it’s our youngest, time in the bathtub.

He loves to line up his army men on the side of the tub, prolonging the actual use of soap and water, the entire reason he’s in the tub in the first place. And so it’s always the same routine, me telling Hayden it’s about time to wash and get out, and Hayden asking the usual, ‘One more minute?’

I could give him ten minutes, but he still wants one more.

Last night, same story, so I told my little blue-eyed negotiator that he had two minutes, hey, I was feeling generous, but expected no arguments. Not realizing it, Greg walked in and said, ‘Five minutes, buddy.’

Hayden immediately went into protest mode, and here’s the rest of that discussion:

Hayden: No, Dad, Mom me told I had…(then abruptly got quiet)

Greg: Mom told you WHAT?

Hayden: Ummmmmm, never mind.

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