A couple of nights ago we were all sitting in the floor, winding down for the night. Of course, winding down consists of convincing our children that bedtime is imminent and can not be avoided. We do this by plopping them down on our laps and rock, rub, relax them into oblivion. I felt as if I was actually being somewhat successful in my endeavor. Mr. B is notorious for not wanting to sleep under any conditions, sans being in my bed with me. Of course, this is not the optimal situation for Mr. Forest......if you catch my hint.
During all of this so-called "rest and relaxation", Steven had the movie (and I use that term lightly) "Beer for my Horses" on. As Mr. B was leaning back against me I felt that he was indeed giving up the fight. I felt somewhat smug, thinking something along the lines of "like putty in my hands...." It was about this time that the "movie" had a scene involving Toby Keith, getting some bad guys and in turn, causing their truck to flip over. My sweet, almost asleep little boy, raised up off my lap and yelled, "That's what I am talking about!!!....... crashin' trucks" and then sank back onto my lap and curled into me again.
Boys...... go figure.