I'm feeling a bit shrewish lately.
Wonder Boy:
Don't carry the cats around!
Don't run the scooter into your sister!
Don't pour that out! Not there!
Where are your pajamas?
No! You can't eat ice cream for breakfast!
Are you picking up the cat again? No!
No, you can't go outside without mittens!
No! No! No! Those are your Dads' tools!
The Flower Child:
No! Don't hit your brother!
Don't bang your hands on the window!
Why are you throwing your sippy-cup?
Why are you crying?
Why are you crying?
Why are you crying?
Why are you crying?
The Hopeful Hubs:
Are you kidding? I don't need to relax - I need a vacation.
1 comment:
If TCBIM tells me to relax one more time, I'm going to hit him upside the head with a cast iron skillet. I've always wanted to do that, just to see if life is like a Warner Brothers cartoon. Ka-whong-g-g-g-g-g-g!
Some day I want to be able to have temper tantrums the way the 15 month-old does. With wild abandon and many tears. I'll take a pass on the booger-smeared face, though.
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