I do not understand boys

Recently I've been given a new responsibility at church. I'm now partially "in charge" of the 14-15 yr. old girls, which means every Tuesday night I have youth activities and Kenta is in charge of bathing Thomas and putting him to bed (Abby stays with me, for now). Thomas is super easy at bedtime, but lately he's been staying up, talking to himself about cars, airplanes, and trains for quite a long time. Anyway, when I got back from church last night, I asked Kenta how the night went. The following conversation ensued:

Me: "How was Thomas?"

Kenta: "Oh, he was GREAT! I put him down and he didn't make a peep."

Me: "Really? He must have been tired."

Kenta: "Well, actually I had given him half a cookie earlier. He loved it. He carried it around forever and only ate about 1/4 of it before I had to put him to bed with it."

Me: "You put him to bed..."

Kenta: "hmmm....?"

Me: "With a cookie?"

Kenta: "Yes."

Me: "....."

Kenta: "....."

Me: "Well, that explains why he didn't 'make a peep'. "

Kenta: "I just figured it was easier to let him keep the cookie, than try and take it away from him. He would have thrown a fit."

Me: "Hmmm...I guess that also explains why Thomas likes you more than me."


I've since decided that Thomas won't die from going to bed with a cookie one time (I've been assured that this won't happen again).

However, the first thing Thomas said to me when I got him out of bed this morning was, "Big cookie?". To which I responded, "How about some oatmeal? Or scrambled eggs?". It's all fun and games when Daddy's in charge. Not so much when Mommy is.

(Lest you think I am ripping on Kenta's parenting skills, here's some proof that he really is a good dad):





Ohhh...boys. I do not understand you.