Pantsless Coup

There is a tyrant in our household and his name is Lucas.

Just days ago I was telling a friend of mine that we had survived the reign of Ethan, a ruthless would-be dictator who defied authority at every turn. For weeks he did his duty as a three-year old to push boundaries and test limits. He was consistently shown who was boss and despite an arsenal of tactics including tantrums, daredevil behavior, and just plain screaming, he finally abandoned his quest for domination.


.

But there is another.



It began innocently enough, as it usually does. A "no" here and a "no thank you" there. He drew me in with his captivating smile and his adorable cheeks, as many a despotic ruler throughout history has done. But soon his plan became clear. He would ask me to play with him, but would tell me all the toys were his. He would ask me to prepare him a specific food and then deny ever having asked for it. When my head was spinning from the confusion, he took the opportunity to introduce "the rules." Over the last few days the entire family has been scolded numerous times for not following "the rules." HIS rules. They apply to everything. Ask him to put on his shoes before we leave the house: "I don't want to wear shoes. That is my rule." Tell him to pick up his toys after he finishes playing: "That is NOT my rule!" Play any game with him and he will sternly inform you of how to play, coincidentally to his advantage: "Those are MY RULES!!"

This tyranny would be terribly oppressive and demoralizing if it wasn't being doled out by a person who was three feet tall and rarely wore pants. It is another phase that this family must endure, but I am quite convinced I will again prevail.