Me: Supper! Wash your hands and come to the table!
Two sets of tiny feet scurry to the bathroom. That means one set is still in the living room.
Me: Henry! Let's go. Suppertime.
Henry: In a minute.
Me: No. Now. It's supper.
Henry: No, Dad. I'm not coming yet.
Me: Cornbread -- it's suppertime. Go wash your hands.
Oooooo, I'm mad. I stomp toward the living room. I see Erin is on her way, too.
We stride into the room: a lean, mean parenting unit.
Henry lays on the couch. He is clutching a novel.
Henry: Just two more pages! Pleeeeeease? It's just getting to the good part!