He comes by it honestly.

Saturday morning, my parents came over for breakfast before taking our nine and a half year-old sons to the USF Bulls game and a sleepover. In exchange for giving us twenty-four child-free hours so we could nap and surf the Internet, Husband thought the least we could do was fix them some toast and orange juice.

Afterward, while I picked at my gluten-free bread and the rest of the grownups sipped coffee, Oldest asked if he could play some video games.

“No,” I told him. “Remember, we talked about this? Last night you and your brother kept talking and wouldn’t go to sleep right away. I had to call in there at least five times for you both to quiet down and get some sleep.”

“We got quiet after you said no video games today,” he said.

I smiled.

“Right, sweetie. From now on, I’d like you to get quiet before I arrive at the ‘no video games’ threshold.”

He tried a few more times, but I wasn’t having it.

“We’re going with Nana and Grandpa and won’t get to play video games at all until tomorrow. Please?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Stay here and visit with us. Or go read a book. But no electronics today.”

My little honor roll-making fourth-grader grew frustrated and disappeared for a few minutes. Came back and handed me this note.

The kid got his break and about ten minutes of video games.

And I got a great laugh.

So I guess we’re even.