Last night, Rob and I were sitting on the couch with the baby around 9 p.m. when we heard 2 voices back in the bedrooms having a conversation with each other. Now, bedtime in our house is 8 p.m. Those 2 voices should have been snoring instead of chatting with each other.
Rob, being the excellent father that he is, went back to do some investigating. He noticed that Ryan was not in his room; he was in Aurora's room. While Rob was standing outside her room, assessing the situation to determine the best course of action, he kept hearing a very tired Aurora saying, "Get out of my room... Ryan, get out of my room, please. *yawn* ...Get out of my room." Her protests were falling on deaf ears, however. Ryan was happily playing on the floor of her room, paying absolutely no mind to Aurora's plea--and blissfully unaware of his father standing outside the door.
Now Rob, being the soft-hearted father that he is, decided to take a gentle approach. He told Ryan he didn't belong in Aurora's room after bedtime and that he needed to get in his bed and stay there.
Aurora, being the epitome of the oldest sibling, simply stated "I told him to get out of my room!" And, she was right. She had told him that. Over and over and over again. He just didn't listen. And, why didn't he listen? His next statement summed it all up:
"You're not the mother, Aurora!"
I guess he thought he didn't need to obey her command to get out of her room because she wasn't Mommy.
What am I gonna do with that boy?!?!?!?
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