Don't kid a kidder

This morning Mordecai decided that the couch was 'his couch' and had an all-out freak fest when I wouldn't get off it. I sent him to his room where he proceeded to scream, cry and attempt negotiations with me for 30 minutes. This was only interrupted by the five minutes he spent at the bathroom door trying to convince his father (who was on the pot) that I was an unreasonable, abusive jerk. Once the negotiations continued I heard a lot of this: "Mama! Mama? I wanna lay on da couch and then I wanna shara da couch but not now Mama, no Mama no! I wanna da couch pecause I do and den I shara... Mama? Mama!" Then a hail of tears and screams of torture. What the stubborn little shit hasn't figured out yet is that I am the grandmaster of Waiting It Out. I can out-stubborn him on my worst day. I will outlast that boy when he's twice my size. Sadly, he's yet to figure that out. Alas, he will not 'shara da couch' anytime soon, and neither will I.