Keep it up, kid. I refuse to be annoyed by your bouncing that big red exercise ball for hours on end.

And how the heck to you produce so much trash for someone as small as you?

And do you really know what, "What the?" means? You keep saying it as an expression of surprise, but I'm not. quite. sure. you know the full question quite yet.

No, you can't watch television. No, you can't have the motorcycle bike. No you can't take that home with you. No, you can't stay up. No, I'm not getting up yet, go back to sleep. No, you can't have the Thing punching hands and smashing feet. Stop that. Don't pull on the dog like that. No, you can't have ice cream until you finish your sandwich. Put that down. Don't run at the pool. Don't dive into the pool. Don't step on my tomato plants. Please don't do that. That doesn't go there.

How do we grow up to be (mostly) normal people?

I remember when I was small and received a "No." when I asked to stay the night at a friend's house. Actually, I don't recall if I was staying at my cousin's for Christmas Eve or wanting to stay over at a fellow Brownie's house after a Girl Scout retreat. I do remember calling Mom on the "No," and answering, "You always say no, even when there's no reason."

I caught Mom off guard and she reversed her no into a yes.

Being with Sam these last few days, I have to admit the first word of most of my sentences is "No." Granted, I think some are perfectly legitimate noes: "No, you can't take my dog home with you." But some are either knee-jerk or for my convenience, not because I have any true valid reason to say no.

Are most parents this way?

At one point today, Sam pulled a deck of cards from under the coffee table and asked, "Can I have these?" For the last three days, "Can I have this?" has been a near-constant question from his mouth. If that kid received everything he asked for, he'd be a one-man landfill. I'm completely shocked at how unbelievably effective big media is at getting this small person to desire completely unneeded items.

See above reference to "No." associated with the Fantastic Four's Thing's Smashing Feet™.

So when Sam asked for the deck of cards, and I recalled the other 11 packs sitting in my office closet, well, that one was easy. "Sure!"

But, apparently not for Sam.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I can have them?"

"Yes."

"To take home?"

"Yes."

"My home?"

"Yes."

Apparently I had said, "No." so many times he couldn't quite believe his ears.

Good lord, somebody please tell me how I made it to adulthood?

I mean, some people do this everyday.

Willingly.

For years on end!

Some people even get paid for this. And they still do it willingly.

These people are insane.

Day three of Sam's visit has been far more challenging than the last two. Why? We've run out of things to do. I can't keep the "I'm bored. Can I watch TV?" questions from spilling out of his mouth any longer.

No, kid, you cannot watch television. Go read a book.

Oh, wait, you don't know how to read yet. Crap!

Come on, one o'clock! Swim time!

Sam, while holding his $5.37, "Back home, I have more than anyone in the world.

Kris replied, "Cool! I'm glad I know you. I'm probably going to ask for a loan pretty soon."

"Okay."

"Do you know what a loan is?"

"Yes."

"What's a loan?"

"When you're all by yourself."

Um, well, that was a little unexpected.

I wandered over to the Blogher Conference website and discovered my site is listed on the left hand side blogroll. The name for my blog is incorrect, but it's still listed.

Whoops.

For a site that tries to stay out of search engines, that link is money.

Darn it.

Sam: "I want to take this with us."

Me: "Okay."

"If there is a bench, you can sit and watch it."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I want to play."

"Well, I want to play, too."

"But I don't want it to get stealed." (Yeah, I'm sure he meant stolen.)

"Well, I want to play, too. I don't want to sit around watching your stuff while you play. That's not fair."

"Oh."

Long pause.

"I guess I don't want to take it."

My thought? "Damn straight."