Kit just negotiated for what they want. I think this is a first!

Usually when they ask for something and don't get it, they just get upset or beg. But they wanted me to get down the pump that we use to reinflate their sports balls (they just like pumping it as an upper body workout), and I said no. They went to X, and X also said no. And instead of crumpling, they earnestly looked at me and said, "Pumper, in my room only! Please?"

I was so impressed that I said yes. They smiled hesitantly like they couldn't believe it had worked. We shook hands to seal the deal. I got the pump down and brought it into their room with Kit bouncing alongside me chanting "Only only only!", and they happily settled into pumping it up and down in front of their mirror.

They later brought it out briefly and I said, "In your room only, remember? We shook on it!" They immediately took it back in their room and shut the door, possibly to remind themself not to bring it out.

I feel like this should go in the baby milestone tracker or something. I'm so proud.

I can hear all of you more experienced parents saying "You may regret this in a few years" but trust me, I am not concerned. My brother, a proto-lawyer from birth, once responded to our mother's request that he clear the dinner table by batting his eyelashes and saying, "You made the mess. You clean it up." She was shocked, then belly-laughed and said, "You get away with that... once." So I'm fully prepared to live with a relentless negotiator, and I also have a good role model for encouraging it within limits.

Besides, as another parent of a speech-delayed kid once told me, nothing is sweeter than the first time you wish your formerly silent child would please just stop talking. Kit used to whisper one word at a time. I'll take argument and bargaining over that any day.

Addendum: Kit was so empowered by this that they became the boss of bedtime. When their ocean sound night light turned on, I heard them say, "Ut! I tell my parents," and then they came out and yelled, "IT TIME BED." (Prepositions are hard, so Kit mostly doesn't use them.) When I took off their pants, they asked to keep their shirt on to sleep in. They tolerated toothbrushing and then announced, "I read a story my bed." They brought their chosen book in and we sat down on the bed to read it; halfway through, they abruptly told me, "Put house 'way!" (Their playhouse is where they have school, and we put it away at night and on the weekend.) After asking them to ask a little more nicely, I took the playhouse down, and we finished the story. They asked for a Daniel Tiger story and I read that one too, and then I tucked them in and turned out the light.

At this point Kit realized their efficiency had a downside: they were in bed with lights out a full 20 minutes before this usually happens. So they tried to get up, and I said no. They said they needed to sit in the rocking chair with me, and I said no. They said, "Where my socks? My feet cold." Kit never gets cold, even with bare feet on the bare floor in winter, and they were under three blankets, so I was certain this was not true. But they do often feel very strongly about having socks on and we tend to go with it, so I got them some socks and tucked their feet back under the covers. Running out of excuses, they ventured, "It bacteria on my teeth." I was quite impressed that they would rather brush their teeth again than go to bed, but I held firm. Eventually, for lack of any other option, they went to sleep.

I can't emphasize enough that I love every minute of this. Every single minute. And I fully expect to keep loving it through all the challenging questions and assertions I'm going to field from my kid for the rest of my life. I truly wouldn't have it any other way.