Written yesterday: It's Little Man's birthday, and we're outside. I give in to the lure of good lighting, and in spite of the fact that he has a cold and is wearing a rather worn T-rex pajama shirt, I decide to take some photos of him in honor of the fact that he's now four years old.
Me: [Little Man], will you come lie on your stomach in the grass so that I can take pictures of you?
Little Man: No. I don't want to.
Me: Okay. That's fine. [Brother], will you lie on your stomach in the grass for me?
Brother: Yep!
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Little Man: Yes! Yes, I will do it!
Me: Good!
(He lies down on the grass, looking unimpressed.)
Little Man: But it's tickling me.
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Me: Will you lie down over here with the shed behind you?
Little Man: No. It's too tickley.
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(He sits up.)
Me: Okay. Can I take a picture of you sitting up like that then?
Little Man: Yes.
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Little Man: Look! This is me turning like an owl! Can I see a picture of me turned like an owl?
Me: Sure.
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Me: Now will you lean on the shed like this for me?
(I demonstrate how I'd like for him to pose.)
Little Man: No. I don't want to.
Me: Okay.
Little Man: Will you swing me five big swings?
Me: I'll swing you after you stand by the shed for me. Will you please go lean against the shed?
Little Man: Okay!
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Me: [Little Man], you need to turn around. Can you please look at your brother?
(That's better.)
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(Poor kid can't breathe through his nose and looks horribly uncomfortable. I've got to think of something to distract him.)
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Me: Can you tell me about Thomas the Train?
Little Man (smiling at last): Thomas the Train.
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Little Man: Percy the Train.
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Little Man: Harvey the Train.
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Little Man: Will you push me on the swing now?
Little Man: Five big swings?
Me. Five big swings.