Message for you sir

Laying in bed, trying to wake up, cuddling with a sick boy and watching SpongeBob. Tay is sitting on the end of the bed playing with a piece of paper (she HAS toys, I didn't say: here use your imagination) when suddenly she throws it on my lap saying:

Zing! Message for you.

Then: I didn't throw it, you didn't see me throw it..it just showed up. Read it!

I don't negotiate with terrorists

Tay wanted to go outside to help run-off the Israeli Solicitor. I told her:

No, stay here.

She walked over to my shoes and said:
If you don't let me go outside I will destroy your shoe.

I told her: I don't negotiate with terrorists.

Tay: Hmph!

And walked upstairs to get dressed.

Brrr...

I have been ill the last few days. Because of it, and my sheer laziness, the children have had the run of the house. BIG mistake. There is a lot that needs to be cleaned.

I asked Tay to pick up the toys in the living room and I would vacuum. What ensued was a long, drawn out negotiation, and although she is good, I am better. I have the: Because I am the Mom trump card. So she began to pick up. Very little, but at least she started.

A few minutes later, an almost naked Taylor walks into my bedroom, arms across her chest, shivering and says:

Mom, I'm getting too cold of cleaning up.