Disclaimer

I'm no Martha Stewart or Mary Poppins. I may even swear occasionally. I am not anything but myself, and trust me, some days that's even more that I can handle.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Can you hear me now?

I realize it's been a month of Sundays since my last blog post. I'm sure y'all have been weeping into your Wheaties wondering when I would write again (man, that's a whole lotta w's in one sentence).

Today is your lucky day. I'd like to start off by thanking everyone who has said nice things about the blog...whether you meant it or were just being polite. When I started this blog, I figured the only people who would read it would be my mom (because stuff like that is in the Mom contract), my sister (to make sure I wasn't talking trash about her), and my BFF. Anyhoo....enough mush, and onto the meat and potatoes.

Last night, one of my precious angels told his father to shut up. I know! Had it not been for my bionic ears, I might have missed it. Jason sure did. Said child had been asked about a quiz, and since said child had been playing video games instead of studying, the boy child couldn't tell Jason what the quiz was on. Jason made a comment about needing to study more, and as the boy stomped up the steps, I heard him mutter, "shut up."

Well, now...the one thing to set me off is muttering. I loathe when my children mutter under their breath. Because, really, I know it's usually something not very flattering about me.

I made the child come stand before me, and I asked him point blank if he told his father to shut up. (Do these children never remember I have bionic ears? I can hear all sorts of things they don't want me to). He looked at me and said,"well, you don't want me to lie, do you? Yes, I said it." Now my first reaction was to wash his mouth out with soap...but before I could, Jason sent him back upstairs to study.

We called him down later, and we took away his cell phone, video game & computer privileges. I must admit, I was a little disappointed in his lack of reaction. I was hoping for some drama to add fuel to the fire. Oh well...maybe next time.

Because there will, of course, be a next time. With four kids, there is ALWAYS a next time.

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