Royal Matters

(scene opens in towel strewn bathroom)

Me: (stripping down toddler) Okay, first we’re going to go potty, then brush our teeth, and then bed time!
Delta: Four story! (holds up three fingers)
Me: One story. Now, get up there and go potty.
Delta: (runs to potty, looks in) Someone did’t flush! (points, outraged)
Me: Its okay, get up there and we’ll flush after. (gets up off the floor)
Delta: No! I flush! (flushes the toilet, stands arms folded to watch)
Me: (sigh) Okay. We’ll wait. (mutters under breath) Princess.
Delta: Not a princess! I an king!
Me: My apologizes, your majesty. Can we go potty now?
Delta: (climbs onto the toilet, doing victory head bob) I an king! I an king! I want four story because I an king! (holds up three fingers)
Me: (starts prepping the toothbrush)

One thought on “Royal Matters

  1. churchmama

    You know that this is kind of how I started to call your brother “The Prince”. He had been annoying by kicking the back of my seat in the car. I yelled at him and was generally not very nice. When we go home, I helped him out of the car and said, “Come on my Little Prince”. Loudly he announced, “I am not your little prince!”. I politely ask him who was he then? Again in a loud voice he announced, ” I am your KING!!”. I politely told him that he was wrong. “I am the Queen and you are lucky I let you be the prince! The “Prince” thing grew from then on, but that is a story for another day.

    Like

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