Sam: “Mom, remember that time God stopped the rain for 3 days?”
Me: “Hmmmm… I don’t really remember that one…”
Him: “Yeah, there was a bad king too.”
So, I told TJ that if he pooped in the potty, he would get M&Ms. I hear the toilet flushing over and over again and then he runs out here with cupped hands expecting his treat. He must think his mama’s dumb. Habeas poopy little man or no treaty-treat.
*Sam throwing a fit in front of the preschool because I’m making him be responsible for carrying his stuff to the car*
Sam: MOM I DON’T LIKE THIS DAY AND I DON’T LIKE YOU FOR NOT CARRYING MY STUFF!!!!!
Me: You’re a big boy and big boys need to be responsible for their own stuff. I still carry a lot of TJs things because he’s still learning.
Him: *seething silence*
Me: *tearing up* I kind of wish I still carried your stuff because that means I can keep you a baby forever…
Him: MOM!!!! THAT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE AT ALL!!!!!
My son, the oracle. None of this parenting thing makes any sense.
*Sam throwing a fit about something again* Sam: “Mom….YOU’RE NOT THE MOM!!!!!!” ME: “Oh, unfortunately I am right now. I wish I were the dad because he doesn’t have to tell you ‘no’ quite as often.” Josh: *assessing the situation* Josh: “Mom, it looks like you need a massage.” Me: “You have no idea.”