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*Sam was in his feelings today and got mad at me for not letting him watch a movie in the car*

Sam: “Mom, I’MMA FIRE YOU!”
*full disclosure- it took me a minute to answer because I was silent laugh-crying in the front seat*
Me: “Ok then… who’s going to be my replacement?”
Him: “Jesus!”

Welp, at least he traded up. Who else thinks he’s going to be a CEO?

I feel like there needs to be a Jeopardy for parents. Five categories:

Things kids destroy
Mischief kids create
Emergency room visits
Parents’ grey hairs
The art of swearing in your head

Here’s the best part: there are five answers that could be right question to any one of the potential category answers:

What is “What do you have in your hands (and/or what did you just put in your mouth)?”
What is “Why is your brother crying?”
What is “How did you get up there?”
What is “Do you think that’s a good decision?”
What is “What are you doing out of your bed?”

So, with a one in five chance of nailing each question, you’d think you’d win. But let me assure you… you will lose and you will have the ER bill to prove it. In the succinct and prophetic words of Darryl Hammond/Sean Connery… “You will rue the day!” and “Suck it Trebek.”

This morning the boys were digging through my wallet:
Josh: “Mom, what’s this?”
Me: “Oh, that? That’s my Costco card.”
Josh: “Your picture looks funny!”
Me: “It does?”
Him: “Why are you making that face?”
Me: *narrows eyes* “What face?”
Him: “You’re making a funny face!”
Me: “What? I’m not making a funny face- that’s just my normal face!”
*cue peals of laughter from all the boys*
Evidently, I have a face only a mother could love.

You all know my stance on Costco. Hate the crowds, love the stuff. I might be the only mom in the world who likes Costco more when I take the kids. Gives me something else to focus on. Feed them samples. Case and point: We were about to check out and we pass the fresh flowers. Josh turns to me:

“Mom, the flowers are so beautiful! Let’s get some flowers!”
Me: “Awww son… that’s so swee…”
Him: “For daddy!”
*****
Me: “I breastfed you for a year. Why can’t you give me flowers?”
Him: “Daddy needs them.”
Me: “Son, daddy wants a steak, not flowers.”

Update: Dave got his flowers.

As it gets closer to bedtime, I find myself using one and two-word phrases:
“You.”
“Come here.”
“Brush Teeth.”
“NOW”