Awake and In Trouble

This morning my husband went upstairs to get my son up for school.  My daughter, as always, was already up and had made herself breakfast.  She was back in her room, thankfully letting us sleep until the alarms went off.  When my husband got to my son's room, it was empty.   He wasn't there.

Where he was, was asleep on the floor in the basement with an open Sprite can at his computer, popcorn strewed on the floor, and a YouTube video about Minecraft playing on his screen.   

He was in trouble.  "Big-time" as my mother would say.  I heard my husband storming up the stairs with a wailing yet sleepy child preceding him.   Screens were removed for the rest of the school week.   My son balked and made demands about how he wasn't going to school and he was going to do screens all day (or some other such nonsense) and my husband, who rarely loses his temper, said he lost screens for Saturday.   Did he want to go for Sunday?

We sent him off to school and didn't tell his teacher why he might be tired.   We decided to let him field this lesson himself.   He told me somberly in the car he was going to tell her (at my suggestion) that he hadn't slept well.  

I picked him up after school and he was in a chipper mood until I reminded him about the events of the morning.   I had talked to my husband in advance about his possibly getting some of the privileges back for the weekend.   We both agreed we were okay with that, but only if he changed his attitude.   I was playing "good guy" and told my son I thought he might be able to earn some time back, but only if he didn't pester his father—in any way—about screens until the weekend had arrived.  Then and only then we could see if his father had changed his mind. 

And tonight he complained about being bored only once.   He's spent a nice day with his friend outside and then with his sister inside.   They are screaming and playing upstairs as I write this. 

The Big Boy Tiny Girl Boat Rope Tiedown:  My son and daughter pulled out the ropes we used to practice knots before going on our boating adventure and the pommel Richard had made for them to practice on.   They were doing complex child bondage experiments gleefully after dinner.   When I came downstairs to write this my daughter was sitting quite still while he tied her feet and legs into knots.