Eddie Haskell lives here now.

Middle Boy got in trouble last night.  The issue was attitude and I addressed it with him before Chris got home.  That makes it sound like I had a, "Now son..." conversation.  It was more like I was dying to get my hands on him, but knew I shouldn't touch him, because I might touch him too hard.  So I spoke loudly, my face very close to his face.  You know, so he could read my lips if he wasn't hearing me clearly.

I punctuated the conversation with the humiliating Mom-Chest-Poke move.  Before sending him to his room to think about what we'd discussed, I said, "DO [poke] YOU [poke] UNDERSTAND [poke] ME [poke]?!  [Poke, poke, poke - just because.]  He did.

Chris got home, talked to him again and didn't poke him.  We both hugged him and helped him lick his wounds a bit without removing the new expectation.  He was sorry for what had happened and was smiling and in good spirits before dinner.

Eddie Haskell Appearance #1

Middle Boy:  Can I help you Mom?

Me:  Sure.  Would you like to set the table?

Middle Boy:  Yes, please!

Me:  You don't have to answer "Yes, please," Honey.

Middle Boy:  Sorry.

Me:  You don't have to be sorry.

Middle Boy:  Okay. [smiling]

I had cooked a roast in the Crock-Pot.  I threw in a few diced onions, carrots, roasted garlic, a few other spices, and two cups of red wine.  It simmered all day and tasted good, but wine was definitely flavoring the meat.

Chris complimented the meal and asked how I had prepared it.  I told him.  Middle Boy looked concerned.  I explained that it didn't taste exactly like wine and the heat burns off the alcohol.  Try it, I said, you'll like it.  [He'd only eaten his potatoes up to this point.]

He took a bite.  His eyes watered a little and his nostrils flared.

Eddie Haskell Appearance #2

Me:  What do you think?

Middle Boy:  Well [smiling and blinking], the bad taste is 80% gone.

Me:  So it only tastes 20% bad?

Middle Boy:  Yes.

Me:  Would you like a hot dog?

Middle Boy:  Yes, please. [smiling]

As we were clearing the table, I noticed the boys need haircuts.  I cut their hair typically before a shower or bath.  They hate it.  Not having short hair, but the process, whether I do it or someone else does.  It's like flossing to them, or putting gas in the car for me.  Needs to be done, but how about later?  I understand.

Eddie Haskell Appearance #3

Me:  You guys need a haircut.  Want to get it over with tonight?

Oldest Boy: [silent]

Middle Boy:  [smiling and blinking] If you don't mind, I'd rather not.  I was unsuspected.

Me:  Oh.  Okay.  I'll give you more of a head's-up in the future.

Middle Boy: [cheerfully] Thank you, Mom!  I'll go take a bath now.  Toddler Child, would you like to join me?