Is Flattery An Inherited or Learned Behavior?

Today Colson wanted to try taking a nap in Brogan's bed instead of his crib. He snuggled under the covers happily, and gave me kisses after I turned on the Wiggles CD for sleepytime music.

When I checked on him 5 minutes later, though, he was perched on the headboard and talking to his stuffed animals. I tucked him back in and told him that if he got out of the bed again, he'd have to sleep in his crib.

Sure enough, 5 minutes later I peeked in and found him on the floor, halfway under the bed, talking to something. I picked him up and was about to explain why I was going to put him in the crib, when he says in the most adorable little-boy lisp, "I was just getting my chicken that was under there, Mom. (We have a couple of stuffed chickens that he's been sleeping with lately.) I was just getting my chicken under there."

It was at this point I paused in my monologue, trying very hard not to laugh, and actually considered the legitimacy of what he was saying. If the stuffed chicken had indeed fallen under the bed, isn't it reasonable to allow him to get it back?

As I thought, Colson obviously assumed that he was going to lose this battle and tried another approach: He put one hand on my cheek and ran his other hand through my hair. "I like your curly hair, Mama. I like your pretty, curly hair."


He got to sleep in the bed.