he's just getting mean

Time: Today at noon.
Place: The kitchen table.
Scene: Andy and I eating lunch while listening to some tunes.

John Denver's "Country Roads" came on. Naturally, being a born n' bred West Virginian I started singing it to him. After all, he needs to learn that one if he's going to be wearing his Mountie jersey.

Andy was working on his fruit cup and I was sitting there singing. Not too loudly or bawdily, mind you. And he stopped eating, took the spoon out of his mouth, held his hand up to my face and said, "NO, Mommy! Stop singing! I'm trying to eat my dinner!"

This behavior isn't unusual, sadly. He's gotten downright insulting. In fact, just a few moments ago I read him some stories, closed his blinds and told him it was time to take a nap. He yelled, "Nooo! I'm not taking a naaaaaap!" Then he ran out of the room, down the hall, and into my bedroom where he promptly slammed the door and barricaded himself behind my bed.

Truly, he did.