Paging Florence Henderson

Where to begin? Last night was an interesting night. Elliott and I got home late because we picked up Mom and Dad when they returned from NYC and took them all the way to their house. So I haven't been home long and Erica calls. And while I'm trying to talk to her and hang up E's new Army sweatshirt, he approaches me clutching Carl Wheezer, who looks less than enthused. Here is a transcript of what followed:

Here you go. Put the cat down. Here you go. Put the cat down. Here you go. I can't take him right this minute, put him down. Here you go. PUT him down, he's doesn't want to be held, he's about to scratch you. Here you go. PUT HIM DOWN. PUT THE CAT DOWN. PUT THE CAT DOWN. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY, PUT THE CAT DOWN!!!!!

As soon as I finished loosing my shit, I realized I was still on the phone with Erica, who was laughing so hard she had trouble telling me why she called. I am so cool.

So later in the night I went to take the garbage out. Elliott told me, "We enjoyed it!" Then he closed the door. I thought it was adorable. I played it up, knocking on the window. Then I grew bored, went to the door....and it was locked. That's right, he locked me out of the house. Then he stood there and giggled evilly. And he wouldn't let me back in. I had to go to the front door and ring the doorbell over and over until Doug finally came to the door.

I appreciate the kid's humor, but I have got to make him understand we only use it on Daddy.