Oh, no he di'int!

Oh, Jack. It is a darn good thing you are cute sometimes. Earlier last week Jack got a puzzle game for some reason that I can't remember why- (see, I should have started this blog earlier and I would remember what he did that was so fabulous that he deserved a new game). Carrying on. When we get a new game here at our house, first we have to play with all the pieces because we get so excited we can't concentrate on the rules of the game. So I set aside the instructions for a another day.

Insert OCD daddy that can't have "useless" paper around. Daddy, thinking he is cleaning up, rips up the directions and throws them in the trash. Jack finds said directions and proceeds, like every three year old would, to have a meltdown. I believe it went a little something like:
Jack - "DADDY WE don't throw away 'constructions'. wehhhhhhh."
AJ - "Jack, Mommy read the instructions. She knows how to play the game. She'll teach you."
Jack - 'incoherent toddler whining'

I ask why Jack is so upset only to find out AJ threw out the instructions to our new game that, just for the record, we DO NOT know how to play. AJ tells me about the above instruction incident and I let him know we actually do need those ripped up instructions from the trash. Yes, the directions sandwiched between the rotting banana and dirty diaper.

Jack says, "I WAS RIGHT. You were WRONG. Daddy, go sit on the stairs." (The timeout spot of choice at our house is the first stair.) Like a good sport, Daddy goes to sit on the stairs and gets up prematurely. Jack who has resumed watching his Curious George video hears Daddy get up from the stairs and peaks his head around the corner using an accusing tone (most definitely NOT taught by his mother), "Um, excuse me, Daddy, did I tell you to get up yet?"

Oh, no, he di'int.