Gryphen, don't do that.
Mommy doesn't like that.
Stop it.
Please, Gryph? Put that back.
OK, Mommy will put it back.
You can't have a cookie now because... don't open that...
OK, but only one.
Here.
OK, two.
Stop that.
Gryphie, please.
Please?
Mommy's good boy?
Please?
I think of the Cosby “Jeffrey” routine. Little Jeffrey. I remember his name, not because he said, “I’m four years old,” but because Jeffrey’s mother said his name all 2500 miles of the trip.