Today did not start out the way I would have liked. My youngest decided at 1am he was up. Wife had to work so it was up to Dad to take him downstairs and try to get him wound down.

Flash forward about 4 hours and I finally get him in his bed. I go back to mine to find my 5yr old has invaded. Dad hooks back into his cpap machine (yes I’ve been diagnosed with severe sleep apnea). About an hour later I have to get up and get kids ready for school. I send off the older two to school, wife to work, and I finally get another hour or so of sleep, albeit with Jackson sleeping on my arm.

Caffienating as I drive, we make it to our joint chiropractor appointment. I get adjusted and then it’s Jackson’s turn. It’s like he flipped a switch and became the most well behaved not quite 3 year old you’d ever meet.

We then managed to negotiate shopping at Walmart in record time, only missing one item, because they were out of it.

I would say, never argue with a child about what you McDonald’s has, because even if you’re right, you’re wrong. I told him they didn’t have dinosaur toys, he insisted they did. He ended up with Lion King’s Simba.

Lunch home and nap: in that order. Dad would have loved to get a nap too, but sadly I had things to do. He looked well rested when he got up later.

In the store, he’d tried to put two bags of mini powdered donuts in the cart. We compromised on one, in addition to the promised box of candy he got for being a good boy all day. For snack time before bed, he swore to me he didn’t pick out the candy that he did, Jolly Rancher Sour Gummies.

Instead, he chose to have two donuts “I need one for each hand”. And a third to give to Mommy “They are her favorite, I know”.

That’s when I was betrayed. He said he wanted more. Dad said no. Mom told Jackson to get the kitchen stool so he could reach them off the back of the counter where I had put them.

It’s clear the gauntlet had been thrown. The coup has begun. Dad is going to be overthrown as King of the House.

Dad hasn’t been King since at least Empress Emma was born. I’m just a puppet. Dancing upon the strings.

Moral of the Day: Maybe, just maybe, the kid needs a facial massage and chiropractor appointment to keep the sassy away.