My son, the comedian

Last night was one of those nights. We all needed a field trip and the chicken that I had in the fridge to thaw was still frozen solid - so out to dinner we went. I called Spencer at work and he was going to meet us at the sandwich shop. We beat him there and Easton was climbing the walls. Up and down, up and down on the booth; play with the salt shaker, spill the salt shaker; grab for napkins; etc. Knowing that this could turn ugly at any second, I used my best Mommy face. I got on Easton's side of the booth and gave him the I-am-not-kidding-this-is-serious-business-face and talked in that low, slow, no-nonsense voice. The conversation went like this:

Me: We are in a restaurant and have to be very still and quiet, okay?
Easton: O-tay
Me: If you don't sit still, then Mommy will have to put you in a high chair and strap you in. Do you understand?
Easton: Yes.
Me (feeling proud): Thank you Easton for listening to Mommy.
(pause)
Easton: Do it again.
Me: What?
Easton: Do it again.
Me: Do what again?
Easton: Open your eyes big and talk to E-tee again.

Note to self: When you are trying to discipline a toddler he is more interested in the fact that your face is contorted into a strange shape rater than listening to what is coming out of your mouth.