Julian was relaxing in the bathtub the other day when I walked up and asked him to get out. I needed to take a shower before work and I was running late.
His head leaning against the back, his body floating out in front of him, his mind deep in thought, he asked me who was stronger, Chewbacca or the Hulk.
I told him the Hulk, of course, because Chewbacca was merely a member of an anthropomorphic species which a possesed physical strength that was superior to humans, whereas the Hulk was a bondafide super-hero.
This conversation went on for awhile, over the course of which I frequently interjected that he needed to get out of the tub- I was going to be late for work. Eventually, I focused solely on this getting-out-of-the-tub thing and, after that failed to work, I began to get upset.
I realized that I had to get stern with him. I had to show him who was boss. I couldn't let this insubordination go unchecked.
I ordered him to abandon the tub and informed him that I was about to get angry.
He asked me what I would do if he didn't. Was I going to poop on his head?
I burst into laughter.
How could I not?
I guess this is why I'll never be good at the whole parenting-thing.
