For whatever inexplicable and invisible-to-me reason, Gabriel woke up this morning in a ROTTEN mood. I was like, "Hey honey it's time to get up." And he was like, "LEAVE ME ALONE MOM I'M SLEEPING GO AWAY WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU I'M SLEEPING." Then he totally told me to work on my people skills and wondered how I had any friends at all with the way I behave. I don't know where he picked up that. Hmmm.
So when I DID get him up, he wanted to wear his Spider-Man shirt. Fine. And his Spider-Man unders. Fine. And his Spider-Man socks. Which took approximately 10 minutes of tortured screaming to find. But fine. And his Spider-Man shorts and his Spider-Man hat and his Spider-Man shoes. Hold on. You don't even *own* Spider-Man shoes. You have NEVER OWNED SPIDER-MAN SHOES. No? No matter, he shall throw a tantrum for them anyways. Did you hear me? My son spent most of this morning crying for a NONEXISTENT PAIR OF SHOES. And he refused to wear or consider any of his other shoes. So I grabbed him with one hand, my purse with the other, wedged a pair of shoes under my arm, and wrangled us all into the car. Screaming. The whole. Time. Halfway to daycare Gabriel stops crying and announces, "Mama, I want to wear my skate shoes."
"I didn't bring your skate shoes, I brought your basketball shoes. You didn't tell me which shoes you wanted."
"THAT'S BECAUSE I WANTED MY SPIDER-MAN SHOES. Now I'll wear my skate shoes. PUT THEM ON WHERE ARE THEY I WANT THEM NOW."
"I don't have your skate shoes."
And the screaming commenced, and continued all the way to daycare, where he was still screaming when I left.
Is 3 easier than 2?