Tonight I had some "me" time. I hid in the bedroom and watched an entire hour of TV without anyone barging in.
(Okay, once, but during commercial. And it only lasted 2 minutes, so mission accomplished.)
When I reemerge the Cracker tells me he wants a banana, that he had one, but that Daddy took it away.
"Hey, he says you have his banana?"
"Oh yeah, guess I forgot to give it back after his time out."
"He had a time out? What'd he do?"
"Well, you had to be there."
"He wouldn't stop washing his hands."
"You really had to be there." Sighs. "So he's in the bathroom for like 10 minutes yelling out me wash my hands...with soap now...with water now...me wash my shoes...now me wash my hands again...me wash... After ten minutes I told him to stop and of course he told me I can't."
"Ugh! I hate that!"
(This has been going on for a few months now, but he's recently decided that saying "sorry!" after "I can't" makes it okay to say no to everything we ask/suggest/downright tell him.)
"After I realized he'd gone through an entire thing of liquid soap I put my foot down, but he started in with the kicking and screaming routine. And he pretty much flooded the bathroom."
"But, on the plus side, he's been in a really good listening mood ever since."