Most of the time it looks like butter wouldn't melt, but when George wants to get his own way there are a few tricks he resorts to.
The other day he pointed to the place where the treats are kept, so, because he had been a good boy I gave him three chocolate buttons. A few moments later – daddy out the way – he managed to persuade mummy to do exactly the same thing. I suppose you've got to give him credit where credit's due.
He might have outwitted us that time, other times he uses his cheeky grin or infectious giggle to win the day. Like most parents, we don't let him climb on the furniture, but one minute he's happily doing a jigsaw on the coffee table and the next he's sitting on it...
It all starts with smiles and laughter...
... then in one swift move, he's up...
... mummy attempts to intervene...
... but George is victorious (well, for a few moments at least)
We also don't let him play with the camera, and this is what it looks like when we stick to this particular rule...
George does his 'celebrity-coming-out-of-a-nightclub' impression
Other days it's a battle of wills to get him to put a bib on at meal time – then there are times when he wants to put them all on... and on these occasions we tend to let him get on with it...
One day this week we had some visitors – some very friendly hens who seemed to quite enjoy being chased around the garden, and George too thought it was quite a hoot tormenting them with his car and terrorising them on foot.
It was when they (not so surprisingly) decided they'd had enough and clucked off back to their coop that the tears and stamping of feet began. That's when we resort to distraction tactics, which occasionally call for something desperate...
Not so much a tiara... more a box of Cheerios!
Suits you
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