Life Imitates Art
/My almost 3-year-old, Bennett, was up early one morning recently. Of course, him being up early isn’t unusual; he’s almost always the first up. But this time was different because it was the first morning he felt the need to blatantly troll me while I was still half asleep.
I went upstairs to meet him at the top of the stairs because he wanted me to carry him down. I carried him down.
We arrive downstairs.
Bennett: Now, carry me upstairs.
Me: Why?
Bennett: I want to go back to bed.
We arrive upstairs.
Bennett: Now, carry me downstairs.
Me: What?
We arrive back downstairs.
Bennett: Now, carry me upstairs.
Me: Seriously?
We arrive upstairs.
Bennett: Now, carry me back downstairs.
Me: Dude. What are we doing?
Bennett: First we go downstairs, then we go upstairs, then we go downstairs, then we go upstairs.
Me: Yeah, I noticed. But why are we doing that?
Bennett: Because that’s what it’s all about.
Me: …
Yep. When I realized how hard he had trolled me at six in the morning it was legit the proudest I’d ever been.