We visited a cousin Saturday with the kids. She found a token under her sofa that is for use at the Chuck E. Cheese (CEC) pizza/game restaurants that are all over Atlanta. She gave Quadson the token and told him to save it for the next time he goes to CEC. When we left her house, he stated he wanted to go to CEC. We had more errands to run, so CEC was not on the agenda, especially on a Saturday eve, which is super crowded at CEC, we've learned from the one time we had been there. Quadson was upset about not going, but he got over it, stating before he went to sleep that "we can go tomorrow." When we were dressed and out the door on Sunday, on the way to church, Quadson stated he was ready to go to CEC with his token. When we told him we were headed to church and would watch his behavior before we went to CEC, he proceeded to have a FIT. HE WAS MAD. When we finally arrived at church, he was fast asleep, which is unusual, so we dismissed his behavior as exhaustion from Saturday's running about. When service was over, we proceeded to his class to pick him up, and his teacher told us that "Quadson told me to tell you both that he was a very good boy today and you should definitely take him to CEC." We were in shock. Just the Sunday before, when we were picking him up from his class, the teachers surrounded Monique and I, telling us that they have been mispronouncing his name all along and that we should have made sure they were calling Quadson what sounds like [kayson]. We assured them that [kayson] was the correct way to pronounce his name. We were then astounded to find out, that he told them and insisted that he be called [quad-son] and that [kayson] was wrong. We could not believe it and told them that they were being toyed with. Anyways, after he laughs his head off about the teacher telling us about CEC, we head out and have to break it to him that we have too much going on to go to CEC. Again, HE WAS MAD!!!!! His tantrum was making us mad. Although he asked 50 more times this day about CEC as we were running about town, he kept his temper down, sort of. When we finally made it home and were winding down the evening, I told him that we had to chat about his behavior and had to explain to him how much his tantrum disappointed us, let him know what his consequences would be, etc.
He looked me square in the face and said, "Aw, Dad, C'mon, delax!!! I could not help but burst into laughter and tell him the word is "relax." He was "playing" me.
