WeeBee isn't even two and he's already figured out that if Daddy says no, go ask Mommy.
This evening I had gone upstairs for five minutes of peace and quiet, when WeeBee came crashing through the bedroom door. Picking himself up, he announced, "I'm so sorry!" and then started tugging on my hand, asking "Cheese? Cheese?"
I wasn't sure whether the "I'm so sorry" was for coming into the room like the end of the world was upon us, or because he wanted cheese...in which case, the apology didn't make sense. After confirming that he was, in fact, asking for cheese (cheese, Cheerios, and juice can sometimes sound the same when he's worked up), I agreed, and we headed back downstairs.
Daddy was in the kitchen, making a sandwich and laughing to himself. It turns out that WeeBee had asked for cheese, and had been told no, because Daddy was busy slicing ham. Not one to waste any time, WeeBee then ran upstairs and cornered Mommy, who was completely oblivious to what had just gone on, and said yes.
Sometimes I wonder if he stays up at night plotting this stuff...
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