What is it about those three little words that scares men so much?

Last night, Silas had about four ounces of Sprite all to himself.  He then grabbed Michael's cherry-limeade off the coffee table and sprinted across the room drinking as he went (yes, I was freaking out about the running with the straw in his mouth, and no he didn't fall and put a hole in his trachea...it's not that kind of story).

The scene that then unfolded was akin to the beginning of every episode of Super Nanny... 

My slightly mischievous, but otherwise sweet, child morphed into a sugar-crazed blur of destruction and chaos and wreaked havoc on our house for a good forty minutes.  When he finally crashed, he whined and kicked and cried and snotted all over me until I wrangled him into bed...............and then I begged to be sedated.

This morning I felt like he owed me a debt of love and gratitude for putting up with him last night.  So, I kept trying to get him to say "love you" because he did it once last week, and I assumed that meant I was going to be able to get "luv you's" out of him whenever I pleased going forward.  He pretended he had no idea what I was talking about.

So, I made him watch the video of when he was about 3 or 4 months old, and it sounded like he said "love you" back to me after I said it to him (the original video is something like four minutes of me saying "I love you" over and over and over, but it has been edited down to the 22 seconds where Silas finally grunts something sounding like it could be "love you").

I just needed him to know that I know that he's capable of making the sounds and that I'll wait him out...because he can't feign ignorance forever.