Coming Back To Haunt Me

The only thing worse than hearing Sam whine is knowing that it sounds exactly like me. His scowl? All me. His exasperated sigh, complete with slumped shoulders and an eye roll? Guilty.

Papa and Grandma Susan sent Sam $3 in a birthday card last week. Sam has been so excited about having money. We've been talking about going to spend his money for days. This morning I said over and over that we'd go to the store after nap.

I just got everyone dressed and the diaper bag packed. I went into Sam's room, where he was kneeling by his train table. "Okay, Sam," I said. "Time to go spend your three dollars!"

"Not now, Mom," Sam said. "I play cars."

"You don't want to go to the store?" I asked.

"Well, we could..." Sam said. "But no. I play cars."

I stood there staring at him for a while. "Are you sure?" I persisted.

Sam gave me a fake smile and did an uncanny impression of my I'm-trying-to-sound-cheerful-but-am-getting-annoyed voice. "We WILL go to store, Mom. But not today. We will. Now I play cars."

Then he waved me out of his room.

Oh man.