Even if your boy is fairly accomplished at following orders, he will hardly ever follow your orders in a straight line. Boys cannot take a direct path to anywhere. I just told the brothers this afternoon to head for their room for the usual, one hour rest time. Nathan immediately turned on his heel, leaped onto the ottoman and vaulted himself up to the top of the couch, where he balanced for two seconds before crouching and springing across the room, into the hallway. There may have been some type of midair, Indian warrior/Power Ranger ninja kick involved in the flight, but I’m not sure. Nicholas promptly followed his every move, of course. Special bonus – parents of multiples get instant replay on all boy tricks.
Obedience? Yes. Chances of them ever following orders without invoking Evel Knievel? Zero. Ask a boy to do anything and he will find a chair to climb, some furniture to scale, or a door frame to leap and touch on his way to do it. But the most amazing thing about boys and their circus act detours is the fact that many of them grow up to be fathers. Fathers are people who lay on the couch and say to their boys, “Hey son, hand me that remote control. It’s right down there by my left foot.” Why are dads so tired? Because we spent about twenty years being boys, that’s why.