I have a great kid.
I'm quite lucky, because he really gives me no trouble. And for the most part he is a perfect angel. Sort of...
HOWEVER...............................................................................................................
I noticed that someone had spray painted on the side of our house. I saw some little girls with a can of spray paint a couple of days before and shooed them away. I thought perhaps one of them had done it so I went to talk to them to see if they knew anything about it. Of course all I heard form them was the sound of crickets.
So later that evening my son comes home and I ask him if he knew anything about it and as he has no since of self preservation and always (thankfully) tells the truth, he says, Yeah, I did it a few days ago. Why? Was that not a good thing?
First I was shocked....
Then, I was breathing fire...
Then I ended up some place between disbelief and pissed off
I was actually proud of myself for not going off. I kept my cool because I knew losing it wouldn't help anything.
In the end I ended up letting him pick his punishment and made him scrub it off. I ended up sounding just like my mother!
Son, I'm not angry...just very very disappointed. When did I become my mom. Not that she's not a fantastic lady and if I had to be like someone then I would want it to be here but I distinctly remember saying that I would never say or do the things my parents did.
I think I need a drink while I go ponder the nature of this.
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