The other day, I was in our bedroom, working. Suddenly, Cooper started to just scream outside the door, pounding his fists again and again. He was shouting, "Daddy!!! Daddy!!! Daddy!!!" It was unsettling. I'm sure the neighbors could hear, and were probably wondering how I could be so merciless to my own son.
The truth was, I had a lot of work I needed to do, and I didn't want to let Cooper in and have to deal with whatever problem he was having. So, I tried to ignore him.
Useless.
When Cooper wants to be heard, he will be heard. He continued to scream and pound on the door for 1 . . . . 2 . . . . 3 . . . . 4 . . . . 5 minutes straight, and I just couldn't take anymore.
I walked to the door, ready to be a mean daddy. I jerked the door open, looked down, and tried to say in the nicest voice possible, "Yes, Cooper?"
He looked up at me, and ever so casually said, "Kiss?"
So I bent down and gave him a little kiss. Immediately, he turned around and hopped off to go play in the living room.
That kind of thing just couldn't have ever been scripted any better :)
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