My child gets mad at me. My child gets mad at me a lot.

At bedtime.

When we turn off the X-box.

When we have to go to school (aka therapy).

Pretty much any time he doesn’t get his way.

Let’s face it. The kid is effectively three and a half behaviorally. This age isn’t known for its fantastic coping skills.

Last night, though, my child had a new response for me at bedtime. I had turned off the lights, tucked him in, gotten him his stuffed animals and a drink, and left him to sulk. As I walked away, I told him that I loved him.

“No,” he grumbled back with his little arms crossed and the biggest pouty face. “Don’t love me.”

It was all I could do not to bust out laughing. “Oh, buddy,” I said. “You don’t get to choose. Mommy gets to love you whether you want her to or not.”

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