This may be genetic. Hold me.

Lately my conversations with Bosco go something like this:

Me: Please sit in your seat and eat your dinner.

Bosco: This isn't my seat. This is daddy's seat.


Me: Please pick up your backpack and put it away.

Bosco: Well you could pick up the backpack yourself and put it on your back. Then it wouldn't be in your way.


Me: Turtles are cool because their home is on their back.

Bosco: It's a shell mommy not a home.


Me: Pick up your cars. I'm tired of stepping on them.

Bosco: These are trucks mommy, not cars. And you can just be careful and not step on them.


Me: Do you know you put your shirt on backwards? The tag is in the front.

Bosco: I didn't put my shirt on today mommy. You did it.

Okay never mind the fact the he is right. What about the fact that he's giving me a complex and a headache?

Not only do I have conversations like this with my son, but talking with the Husband isn't much different.

Me: You told me to pick my battles so I am. I'm putting my finger down on this one.
Husband: You mean your foot?

Semantics people! I'm arguing semantics with a three year old (and a 30 year-old). Come on!

Bottom line: Eat your dinner. Pick up your mess. Turn your shirt around. Do what I say cause I'm serious about this. And turtles are cool!

I'll tell you this much. I am really not looking forward to the day when Bubba can speak in complete sentences, and join the Use Mommy's Words Against Her Club. I'm just not ready for this three against one scenario.

I need a cookie.