I am going to kick some serious dinosaur ass if this keeps up

Three years ago, Andy the Dinosaur came into our lives. He belonged to my nephew, and when Monkey Man was old enough my sister gave him to MM to enjoy. I never thought he’d grow as attached to Andy as he has.

Andy received his name because when my nephew took him to preschool, my sister wrote his name on the little tag on the stuffed dinosaur’s leg. When MM received it from my sister we immediately dubbed him Andy.

Andy has been Monkey Man’s constant bedtime companion for the last three years. He’s none the worse for wear – I think his tail has been repaired several times, he looks a little worn, but still very lovable.

Until last week. Andy has become the juvenile delinquent of the dinosaur world. Either that or one badly spoiled dinosaur.

First, last Thursday night, Andy needed his own pillow. Fine, we got the little travel pillow out of the truck and gave that to Andy.

Then, it was a blanket on Friday night – it had to be a special Blue Blankie just like Monkey Man’s and nothing else would do. I tucked the boys in and wished them a good night.

On Saturday night, I kept hearing restlessness over the monitor several times during the night. I went upstairs to check on things and everything seemed okay….

On Mother’s Day, Monkey Man was extraordinarily crabby after naptime. I chalked it up to our trip to the monster truck show on Saturday. After an uncharacteristic trip to Time Out, I sat Monkey Man in my lap and asked him what was up:

Me: What’s wrong, buddy – are you feeling sick?

MM: (whimpering) No.

Me: You’ve been a little crabby today, are you okay?

MM: I’m just so tired.

Me: Tired? But you just had a nap.

MM: Andy kept waking me up last night.

Me: He did? Why did Andy do that?

MM: He kept waking me up because he wanted a juice box.

I have just about had it with Andy’s diva-like attitude around here. Next thing you know he’s going to expect weekly pedicures, an iPod, and perhaps a chauffeur-driven Bentley.

All I can say is that last night as I put the two of them to bed, I kissed Monkey Man on the cheek, patted Andy on the head, and said, “One peep out of you, Andy, and you’re going to be sleeping in the guest room. And by the way, we’re out of juice boxes so don’t even think about it.”

And all was quiet. I'm just waiting for his next demand and then I'm checking the bylaws of the Dinosaurs Union to see what my rights are.