The Worst Day of His Life

If you've read yesterday's entry on our family blog, you heard that by making the boys come inside last night, I instigated the WORST day of Quinn's life.  I kind of chuckled about it at the time, but he persisted today in saying how terrible yesterday was, and not just because I wouldn't let them sleep outside on the swing.  There were, apparently, two other horrific occurences that made yesterday worthy of being deemed the WORST.   That bothered me.  WHAT happened?!?!?!  What was so awful???  Quinn wasn't saying.  He just hinted, and sulked, and moped. 

Mom: "Buddy, you can tell me anything, you know that right?  What was so bad yesterday?"
Quinn: "Nothing.  I don't want to say."
Mom: "Did somebody yell at you?"
Quinn: "No.  Well, you did, when you told us to come inside.  But that wasn't the only reason."
Mom: "What else?  Did something happen at church?  Did you feel bad for hurting your sister?  Did you get in a fight with Colby?"
Quinn: "NO.  I don't want to tell you."
Dad: "Take it from me, Quinn.  She will NOT let up until you tell her what's wrong."
Quinn: "Fine.  It was when Grandma and Grandpa were here for dinner."
Mom: "What?  I don't remember anything bad happening."
Quinn: "I wanted an orange popscicle, and you made me take the grape one.  I didn't WANT the grape one."
Mom and Dad: "HA HA HA HA.  REALLY?!?"
Quinn: "I knew that's how you'd act.  That's why I didn't want to tell you."
Mom (trying to keep a straight face): "OK.  I'm sorry I FORCED a grape popsicle on you.  That is what made it the worst day of your entire LIFE?"
Quinn: "Well, there was one more thing, too.  I just can't remember it right now."
Good Grief. 
Quinn: "I guess it wasn't the absolute worst day.  I've had worse.  But it was pretty bad."

And again, I say.... it will get worse, my son.  I guarantee it.