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Nap time with a 4-year-old is like trying to make a deal with a tiny mob boss. You walk into their room, and suddenly you're in a negotiation room, complete with a teddy bear and a sippy cup. I go in there, trying to be all diplomatic. "Alright, buddy, it's nap time. You need your beauty sleep." And he looks at me with this serious expression and goes, "I'll consider it if you read me three stories and bring me a snack."
I feel like I'm bartering for a hostage release. "Okay, okay, three stories, a snack, and an extra bedtime story. But you have to promise not to come out of your room for at least two hours!
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You ever try to have a conversation with a 4-year-old? It's like negotiating with a tiny, adorable dictator. My kid is 4, and I swear, he's got the wisdom of a tiny Yoda, but with a penchant for chocolate milk. The other day, I asked him, "Why do you like chocolate milk so much?" And he looks at me dead serious and says, "Because it's brown like chocolate, duh!" Well, color me enlightened! I've been drinking the wrong milk my whole life.
I'm just waiting for the day he starts giving me life advice. "Dad, you know, if you want more toys, just cry a lot. It works for me!" Thanks, son, I'll keep that in mind.
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Bedtime with a 4-year-old is a masterclass in stall tactics. It's like they're training for the procrastination Olympics. I tell him, "It's time for bed," and suddenly, he's got a thousand questions. "Why is the sky blue? Can cows fly? What if I forget how to blink?" It's like a rapid-fire Q&A session, and I'm the exhausted host.
And then comes the classic move: "I need a glass of water." Kid, you just had a sip! But I'm not falling for it, I hand him the tiniest cup I can find, and he looks at me like I've given him a thimble. "This won't do, Dad. I need a big-kid cup." And just like that, he's bought himself another five minutes of bedtime freedom.
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My 4-year-old has discovered the magic of dress-up, and let me tell you, it's like living with a tiny fashionista. Every morning is a runway show, and I'm the judge who knows nothing about style. He comes out wearing mismatched socks, a superhero cape, and a crown, and he struts around like he's on a catwalk. I try to give some fashion advice, like, "Buddy, maybe the cape clashes with the crown?" And he just gives me that look, like I'm the one who doesn't understand high fashion.
I can't wait for the day he critiques my outfit. "Dad, you're not going out in that, are you? You need a cape or something!
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