In addition to random acts of urination, sudden loud shrieks that I gotta think resemble that of some ancient animal with ADD, and various attacks, punches, and hip checks to his brother the other big issue we're dealing with Trot about is getting up after he's been put to bed.
Or as I like to call it "The Trying to Send Dad to the Loony Bin Nightly Extravaganza".
Every night, after saying his prayers and tucking him into bed, Trot gets up roughly 4,599 times, sometimes only seconds after the light is turned out. He's not even subtle about it; his feet hit the floor like a paratrooper hitting earth after falling 10,000 feet, the door gets opened about as quiet as DEA using one of those battering rams busting down the front door of a crack house, and he always hides in the SAME place behind the bathroom door. He'd make a fantastic soldier and a terrible robber, but the Bull in a China Shop job is still on the table.
In other words he's about as predictable as a Yankee fan yelling "1918" every time he sees a Red Sox fan.
We've tried the Nanny 911 method of silently putting him back in bed over and over until he stops; problem is Nanny Jo never had THIS kid asking her 4,000 questions at the same time.
We've tried the George S Patton method, which involves threats, cursing, and promises of military school. He actually LIKES this one.
We've done the "I'm going to take away everything he likes to play with and let him suffer" plan; he finds a dust bunny, a band aid, and a paperclip and before you know it he's got a prototype of a Weapon of Mass Destruction erected and peeing in it while singing the theme song to the "Mickey Mouse Clubhouse" at the top of his surprisingly large and loud lungs.
I honestly don't know what else to do other than take the door down, turn it around and lock him in combined with putting a padlock on it. Rakes did this for about 2 months; Trot is turning it into a career move. Taking into account the longer this goes on the lower my patience gets this is going straight to the top five of reasons why I'm more than likely headed toward a stroke, heart attack, or multiple personality disorder.
At least I'll go laughing my head off.
The Journey is the Destination…Sort Of
1 week ago