Scene: Owen is sitting on the leather chair in the living room. His milk is in a cup (with a lid) on the floor, 6 feet away from him.
Owen: “Where’s my milk? Where’s my milk? WHERE’S MY MILK!”
Me: “It’s right there, Owen. You can get it.”
Owen: “No. I can’t, Mommy. You get it.”
Me: “No. You can get it.”
Owen: “Get it! Get it! Get it, Mommy! Get it!”
Me: “Owen, you’re a big boy. Get off the chair and go get your milk.”
Owen: “But you’re the biggest.”
“Pretty much all the honest truth-telling there is in the world is done by children.” —Oliver Wendell Holmes
epilogue: James, tired of the whole thing, got up and gave Owen his milk. Owen threw it at his head. And with that, I put his milk away.