Yesterday afternoon, I “introduced” Noah to a bunch of toys he hadn’t played with since he discovered the “joys” of the DVD player and Netflix Instant Queue, not to mention the Wii.

He went nuts, and I had to put new batteries in a very annoying truck that makes obnoxious sounds when you push buttons, but it was not a problem for me. I would rather have those sounds filling the house than him sitting on the couch watching old Power Ranger episodes over and over.

So this morning, after he finally got his breakfast eaten, he got out his trucks again and came into the room where his dad and I were and said, “Mom, where’s the screwdriver?”

Dad: Why do you want the screwdriver?

Noah: I want to play.

Me: Your VBS shirt is in the dryer. Get dressed.

A few minutes later (he’s not dressed).

Noah: I need the screwdriver.

Dad: You’re not going to play with the screwdriver.

Me: No. He wants it to take off the back of some toy to put batteries in.

Dad: Oh. Noah, get dressed.

Dad headed off to the Y to lift weights.

Me: Noah, did you take your medicine?

Noah: I need the screwdriver. You don’t want me sitting, just watching TV, do you?
( so proud – he gets blackmail at the tender age of nine.)

Me: get dressed.

Noah: I think you have to help me. I don’t know where my shirt is.

Me: (I just got my mouth open)

Noah: Wait. I know. You told me. It’s…

Me: In the dryer.

A moment later, he has his shirt on but hasn’t changed his pajama pants.

I’m glad he’s playing and I think I can tune the obnoxious sounds out. But taking him to Bible School in his pajamas won’t work.