The Usual Suspects

Okay, kid, this is the way it's gonna go down: I need you to make a scene, create a diversion, do something, I don't care what it is. ooo, wait; I know - do that squeaking thing you do in your crib or that wail thing you do when your butt falls alseep in that swing. What do you mean, when? When I'm in the kitchen, duh. No, I wasn't calling you Duh, I was saying "duh," like, "duh, what a dumb question." No, I wasn't calling you dumb - tsk, look; wait until I get to the kitchen doorway, then wait a couple of seconds, and start the wailing thing or whatever. If Mama looks like she's going to put you back down, keep the wails coming - squirm or something like your butt's on fire so she has to change your diaper. That oughta buy me an extra three minutes, which should give me plenty of time to open the drawers, climb up to the counter, scale the fish tank, and open the cabinet where she keeps the chocolate. What do you mean, what's in it for you? How about the satisfaction of knowing you helped someone else in need? Okay, then, how about I promise not to dive bomb on you tonight when Mama puts us both on the bed after our baths? Yeah? Okay, deal.