We have a pretty serious problem of little boys pulling the couch apart every time you turn your back. Three bottom cushions come off the sectional, along with three throw pillows. They are constantly being turned into makeshift forts, houses and even trampolines.
It drives Mommy crazy.
With the economy as it is, and our single-income family, we're probably going to have that couch for a while. I'd prefer that it not be coming in holes any time soon. You know, like the leather ottoman that used to have a zippered storage compartment underneath. Did you notice the words "used to have" in that sentence? One of my ingenious children (I will not mention names, Connor Elias) decided that particular piece of furniture made a great boat when it was turned upside down. His 45 or so pounds did not meet the weight limits of the (cloth) zippered storage compartment, so it tore into a giant hole and made all of the fabric hang down underneath (until Mommy finally gave in and just cut it off with scissors). Now there's no more compartment, just a big empty hole.
That said, we've been working with the boys about leaving Mommy's couch alone. Their name stated in a loud, obviously irritated voice by Mommy is usually enough to get all of them scrambling either away from the scene of the crime or to shove the cushions back on any which way they can as fast as they can. Today it took a new turn. Connor had already been chastised (and threatened with immediate bed time) once this evening. The second time I saw him messing with the cushions, he was quick to cut me off before I could even get to the middle name.
"I not do it," he insisted, still shoving the cushion back on. "Xander pull cushions off. Xander bad boy, go to bed RIGHT NOW!" he added, putting it back and letting it go. And there he stood, glaring at his younger brother (who was, in fact, guilty as charged) and Connor was looking as innocent as could be (which I am inclined to believe, in this ONE instance).
So what does he then do? He proceeds to shout at his brother. "Xander-Mander (our often nickname around the house, substituted, I guess, because he doesn't know his middle name)! You bad, bad boy. You leave Mommy's couch 'lone. You bad, you go bed right now!" And he pushed on his back, for emphasis, trying to move him toward the stairs.
My, oh, my. Perhaps Mommy yells a bit too much these days. Four-year olds (and three year-olds, too, for that matter) will do that too you, I think. Especially my oldest, who's full of attitude and non-compliance these days. Good times.
