Between a sick day on New Year’s Day and visiting yesterday, Little Brother has escaped the fate he dreads: a trip to the shower. (Why is it that little boys love to play outside in the rain, but can’t stand to take a shower?)
I informed him that this morning he will be showering before church. There was much protest: wailing, gnashing of teeth, the whole bit. He doesn’t care if we tell him he stinks.
But then I got him: “I don’t think you’ve had a shower yet this year!”
He couldn’t argue with that. “You got me, Mommy!”
