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!
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.
Me: Will you lie down over here with the shed behind you?
Little Man: No. It's too tickley.
(He sits up.)
Me: Okay. Can I take a picture of you sitting up like that then?
Little Man: Yes.
Little Man: Look! This is me turning like an owl! Can I see a picture of me turned like an owl?
Me: Sure.
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!
Me: [Little Man], you need to turn around. Can you please look at your brother?
(That's better.)
(Poor kid can't breathe through his nose and looks horribly uncomfortable. I've got to think of something to distract him.)
Me: Can you tell me about Thomas the Train?
Little Man (smiling at last): Thomas the Train.
Little Man: Percy the Train.
Little Man: Harvey the Train.
Little Man: Will you push me on the swing now?
Little Man: Five big swings?
Me. Five big swings.