By Wednesday night I was back to my bad mom ways in full force.
When I picked up the kids at daycare, I grabbed some red snow boots that I thought were Will’s. When we got home and unloaded the car, I stared at those little red boots thinking they looked too small to be Will’s. And of course they were too small, because they weren’t Will’s!
His boots were tucked inside his backpack already.
So, yelling at the kids, I piled them back in the car and we returned to daycare where I surrendered the red boots. Thankfully, the rightful owner of the boots was none the wiser. And now I have the perfect example to remind the kids why they (and not me) should be responsible for all their stuff.
In other news, Will and Sydney have made a clubhouse in the basement, complete with an imaginary pet mouse named Whiskey. When Chad and I first heard them talk about Whiskey we looked at the other accusingly and thought, “my spouse is a lush who has taught the kids what whiskey is”.
The kids set us straight, though. Turns out Whiskey is short for Whiskers, which is the Christian name of the pretend pet mouse. Phew!
