I have two sick three year olds.
These poor little boys just don't understand the whole "sick thing."
They want so badly to play. But five minutes after getting off the couch they're coming to me coughing and crying, "My body hurts!"
Over and over and over again I have to tell them that they are sick, that their bodies need rest to get healthy again, and that they will continue to hurt until they listen to me and stay on the couch to get said rest (in much simpler words, of course).
It's times like this that make me see just how parallel the lives of earthly parents are to Heavenly Father's. And I wonder if he ever gets exasperated listening to all the "but whyyyyyyys?" and "I don't want to's" that we say just because we can't comprehend beyond a basic-instant-gratification-level what he's told us.
I'm sure he doesn't, but I sure do sometimes.
These lines of thought always make me more grateful for his patience with me and help me remember to be more patient with my boys.
Have you ever wondered anything like that?