Being Simon's mom is a lesson in patience

Simon is a whiner. And I mean a serious whiner. Steve wanted him to try out lacrosse this year to help us build up a team for the third and fourth graders, and Simon said he'd give it a try if Steve bribed him. He was thinking all day yesterday about what bribe would be required, but it was wasted effort.

This morning when we showed up to lacrosse practice, Simon said he was ready. We found him a pair of cleats, some shoulder pads; we dug through a box of gloves searching for a matching pair that fit, put a helmet on him, and handed him a stick. I walked with him across the baseball field, then the soccer field, and we almost made it to the football field when he stopped, sat down in the wet grass, and started whining.

He whined about how the gloves didn't fit right, the chin strap on the helmet made it so he couldn't breathe, his glasses were sliding down, etc. After some alone time on the field whining to himself, he made it back to the car and sat down to sulk for a while and whine about how "this is the worst day ever." (You must imagine the whiniest voice you can here.)

I managed to get his mind off the horrible lacrosse experience for a while by dragging him down to the street to do a little sign waving. He perked up some and happily shouted at passing cars. By the way, it isn't the best idea to put your thumbs down while driving past Simon. He will definitely have something to say about that.
About 15 minutes before our time was up, he started whining about how hungry he was. I'm pretty sure he was about to faint from hunger (either that or in an effort to get someone to respond to his whining).

We took him to Teriyaki Delight, which apparently was not a delight to him. He refused to get out of the car and went into his usual refrain of, "You hate me! This is the worst day of my life! Why do you hate me so much? Really, you hate me!"

While the rest of us ordered, Simon sat in a chair in the corner, whining. He was starving after all, and since we hate him so much we brought him to a restaurant where there is nothing that he likes. But he did order anyway, even though he wasn't going to like it.

But. As soon as the food came, he started blabbering about how good it was and how we should come back tomorrow.

Seriously? Why does he put us through all of this?