“Mommy, I am going to fill this desk with my art supplies, and starting today, I am the only one who will open the drawers.”

“Nope.  That’s not going to happen.”

“Okay.  Nope.”  Clearly his assertion had been a testing of the waters, an experiment of sorts.  And he found his answer.

“Mommy, why did you say nope?”

“Because there won’t be any places in this house where I am not allowed to go.”

“But there are places in this house that I’m not allowed to go,” he points out, “like your office and the secret room downstairs.”

(The secret room has earned its name because it has heretofore been where Santa stores his stash.  Santa will need a better plan when little boys learn how to operate the childproof doorknob.)

“That’s true, buddy.  And that will always be true in this house.”


“Because I own this house.  I let you live here.”

Say no more.

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