Anyways during lunch I brought him out and we went to Barnes and Noble and got a couple of books for him, and then went and got McD's for lunch. I made him promise to be a fantastically good boy if he wanted those books, and he was pretty good for most of the day. Then... dinner.
I don't know what it is with him and dinner, but he hates eating it, and he eats as slowly as anyone I've ever seen before in my life. Part of the agreement was that he'd be good and eat his dinner and finish it before his bedtime - 8:00 - or he'd lose the books. Well, 8 o'clock rolls around (with plenty of warnings, I was fair) and he's nowhere near done eating, so I take the books and tell him to get ready for bed - and he starts throwing a tantrum. So I put him on his bed, and close the door and walk off to take care of the baby. I let him scream and rant and beg howling for "just one more chance daddy, please, just give me one more chance PLEAAAAASE" for around 10 or 15 minutes, then I went in, and basically screamed at him at the top of my lungs to be quiet*, and he shut up, cowed. Then I calmly explained to him that he had been bad, and that throwing a tantrum was not acceptable, and that it was definitely not the right way to earn anything back. I told him I was very disappointed in him, but if he wanted one last chance, tomorrow would be it. He has to be perfect for the next day, or that's it. And I told him to brush his teeth, get in his pajamas, lay out clothes for himself for tomorrow, and then to get in bed and wait for me, and he did, perfectly. Hot damn. And then I went to deal with the baby. I took him out of his high chair (he had just finished eating) and smelled that wonderful odor that babies give off when they've left you a present to show you their love.
So I take him in to change his diaper, and find out that by accident the daycare had tucked his shirt INTO his diaper last time he was changed. DANGER! DANGER WILL ROBINSON! DANGER!!!!!
I pulled it out, and it had a nice large splat of shit in it. And of course, I had to pull it off over him, leaving a streak of shit up his back where the shirt rubbed across him. So I took off all his clothes and cleaned him up but good, and put on a clean onesy on him, and then put him in bed. When I put him in, he asked for hugs so I hug hug hug hugged him and kissed him and he kissed me and beamed at me and then he lay down and I covered him and he smiled at me, so I blew him a kiss and he blew one back at me, and then I went over to J. He smiled up at me and asked me for a hug so I gave him a big hug and kiss and told him I loved him, and reminded him to be good for me, and he said he would and he loved me, and we hugged again, and then I got up. And then the baby wanted another hug again, so I gave him another big hug, and put on a short movie (one of those Disney singalongs, they're 30 minutes) for them to go to sleep by, and left without a single cry or complaint. Now, they're both sleeping like... er... babies.
The evil daddy hating universe: 0
* - Note that with the level of volume and the general freak-out level he was in anything less wouldn't have penetrated his tantrum. In all honesty there probably were other ways to get him to shut up long enough to listen to me, but I also was in no mood to dance around. Sometimes direct action is very satisfying.