Recently, my sleep deprived (a whole other post) 8 year old has been lashing out a little - over emotional and over tired. Sadly, his little brother has been bearing the brunt of things, though I've certainly copped a fair bit of attitude as well.
Anyway, after an absolutely terrible Thursday, we had words and spoke about the effect this was all having on Sam. I thought we'd been clear and come to an agreement about being kinder to his brother; understanding that Samuel just craved his big brother's attention and that Alexander needed to be patient with him.
All good. A pat on the back for being a super-Mum and handling the situation so well.
Until this morning, only an hour or so after he had woken - boys fighting again. So, I sit him down and explain my disappointment in his actions. "Alexander - you promised. You promised you'd make more of an effort to play with Sam and to be patient with him". A look of incredulity crosses his face. "No I didn't. I didn't promise that at all". "You remember, last night when we were talking about it, you said you'd be nicer to Sam".
"No. I said I'd try to be nicer. I know I didn't promise. Because I wasn't sure I'd be able to do it. And see - I couldn't. That's why I didn't say 'I promise'".
Yeah. It's almost hard to fault that logic. He'll be a lawyer yet.