Who Brought a Three Year Old On this Trip?

The question may occur to you: are they really having as much fun as it seems on the blog?

The answer is: yes, absolutely.  We're having all that fun and more.

But we're having some other moments, too.

Our youngest, Eric, has lately been as unreasonable as only a three-year-old can be.

Sometimes he's just cute enough to get away with it.  He often gets livid when we address him by what used to be called his Christian name.  "I'm not ERIC!" he tells us.  "I'm Scuppers!"  (Or Tashban Knight, or Stuart Little.)

Twenty minutes later when he has to use the head and we get him undressed and in position and say, "ok, Scuppers, call us when you're done", he gets equally livid.  "I'm not Scuppers when my pants are off!" He yells at us.  "I'm Eric!"

It's ridiculous enough to make me laugh, in spite of the getting yelled at part.

Other times, it's not so cute.  There's been lots of potty talk lately, lots of hitting his brother and throwing tantrums and snatching at toys and screaming any time he wants something from us.

Living in a confined space with that behavior, day after day, is not a soothing experience.  Even even-keeled Alisa has been blowing her top lately.  And so my mantra has become, "who brought a three-year-old?"

I comfort myself with the knowledge that the age of reason is only four years away.

Of course, by then we'll probably be living in a house.