Big...Baby...Big Baby?

Last Saturday Jeanne, I, and the kids went to Fargo before the first storm hit.  I took Adam into JCPenney to get his hair cut, despite his protests, "I d'n wanna haircut!  I d'n wanna haircut!"  He wore a cowboy hat around Fargo all day, which I thought was adorable, but I wore it during the haircut and read Toystory from a coloring book to him and the other clients who, I'm sure, appreciated the drama.

As the stylist finished up, she looked into the mirror with him and said, "Well, aren't you cute!"  Adam looked back at her through the mirror, jabbed at his chest as best he could under the apron, and pronounced, "I BIG."

Fine.

However, the next day we were all snowed in together and tensions ran high.  Sometimes I put the kids in the bathtub with water balloons, just to pass time.  I did this, but there was too much time to pass, and Adam started digging his fingernails into Abby's back to test cause and effect.  A screech brought me in to ref, and I told Adam he was not to do it again.  Obediently, he opened his palm and gave her two echoing smacks instead.  I said, "That's it, mister, you're in trouble now."  After dousing his new little buzz cut, I bundled him into a towel and transported him to his bedroom for discipline.  As I recapped his crime, he interrupted to plead his defense, palms upward, "I 'uh baby!  I 'uh baby, Mama!"