A few nights ago I was on the bed reading night time stories to Jude. He hasn’t developed his speech as fast as his sister and I’m still a little surprised to hear him using more complex sentences. He comes across as a more hands-on, practical person. The again he’s only just three so anything’s possible.
It was getting late and so I read one more story from the pile of books on the bed. James the Red Engine and Masie Makes Gingerbread were close by but it was time to stop, turn off the light and get some sleep. At least it was for Jude. I had a huge pile of ironing to catch up on. This is what happened.
Me: That’s it now Jude. Time to go to sleep.
Jude: Can we have one more story? Can we have James the Red Engine?
Me: No, it’s time to turn the light off and go night-night.
Me: No Jude, you’ve had enough stories for tonight.
Jude: (after a pause) If you love me you’d read James the Red Engine.
Me: Err, what?
Jude: Do you love me?
Me: Of course I do! But…
Jude: Then you’ll read James the Red Engine.
Of course I read the story.
Emotional intelligence or just plain old emotional blackmail? Where did he learn to do this?
I’m definitely having second thoughts about teaching him chess when he gets a bit older.