A couple Saturdays ago, we were eating breakfast like any other Saturday. Everyone was finishing up and getting up from the table. I can't really remember how it all started. I think maybe Thomas was throwing a fit about wanting to get down, and we told him to say 'please' just like every other morning. But for some reason, this time he refused to do it. We told him he couldn't get down until he said 'please' and he still refused. Sometimes I hate it when we make statements like that because that inevitably means a battle is about to ensue. The line has been drawn in he sand and Thomas must decide if he will cross over or stubbornly hold his ground. I remember reaching that moment with Noah and Esther, but it wasn't too surprising to me that they held their ground and a war began (one that has definitely not stopped ever since).
But Thomas is a different story. He is so sweet and so mild mannered that I kind of allowed myself to believe that we may never have conflict. He was sure to let me know otherwise that morning. He sat in that chair from around 8:00 until around 11:00!!! Noah and Esthher were begging him to say it. We sat with him, we left him, we came back. He didn't budge. He cried, he screamed, he laughed, he started disrobing. Still nothing. And then, all of a sudden, after three long hours, we told one final time to say 'please' and he did it. Lots of cheering followed and he finally got down shortly before we put him back in his chair for lunch. :)
