Lara and the kids were up at my parents' cottage all week, and Friday was her birthday. We were lucky enough to get babysitting so we were to go to see Harry Potter and grab a late dinner.
The time span needed to leave work, drive to the cottage, grab Lara and get to the theater was slim, so Kiernan had only a brief amount of time seeing me as we ate cake (before dinner, I might add). My parents distracted him from our leaving by saying he could watch one of his DVDs with the giant stuffed bear.
"Gasp!" I gasped (gaspingly), "Bears can't watch TV!"
As we got into the car, my mother called up to me. Apparently Kiernan was quite upset, yelling "I'm! Talking! To! Daddy!". I needed to go back to the kitchen to find out what's wrong. I hiked back to the door and asked what he would like to say to me.
"The bear CAN watch TV, Daddy!"
"Oh! Okay then!" This sufficed enough to get back out the door.
With that drama overcome, we drove off. Five minutes later we decided to phone back to the cottage to remind my parents that the twins needed medicine before they went to bed. I was informed that Kiernan had been crying because he had forgotten to tell me something. He was put on the phone:
"Hi daddy."
"Hi, what did you want to say to me?"
"Um. What did I want to say to you?"
"I don't know, what have you been crying about?"
"Um. Oh. DON'T GO DADDY!"
"Oh, was that it?"
"Ya. Bye."