Naughty Fingers and more Tom-isms

Naughty Fingers

Tom has recently developed a new method of getting out of trouble. Whenever he does something "naughty" and gets caught, he blames it on his fingers. So yesterday, when he was discovered pouring out his drink and splashing in it (after repeatedly being told not to...), it wasn't he who was being naughty - he argued indignantly - it was his fingers. So, we decided to test how committed he was to correcting the naughtiness in his fingers. I suggested that Tom ought to punish the naughty behavior of his fingers by putting them in time out. He concurred and ran over to the time out chair and laid his hand on it. He looked sternly at his hand and said, "No dumping the drink! Naughty fingers - two minutes, time out." But, wouldn't you know it - those naughty fingers just couldn't sit still in time out and kept trying to get off the chair. Tom would then inform me that the naughty fingers were escaping and I would tell him to go catch them and put them back in time out. This happened about three or four times before I suggested that maybe he should sit on the naughty fingers and then they would stay put. He did so and the two minutes were finally completed. It was the least fitful time out we have had yet!


Deity's Approval of Tom's Foot Apparel

We were driving to the store the other day and passed the Temple. Tom gets really excited whenever we pass by it and I always ask him what it is and who lives there. In recent weeks, it apparently is not only the residence of Heavenly Father and Jesus, but also Santa Claus. We have had to nip that last notion in the bud and he has finally caught on. So, on our last drive past the temple, he told me that it is "not Santa Claus' house, it is Heavenly Father and Jesus' house...," he paused dramatically and added as a bonus, "... but Jesus likes my boots."