It may seem like I am picking on my children this week. I am not. I'm smarting off left and right because well, I'm a bit sick of them. It is the end of the summer and I'm run ragged with trying to organize everything they need. The people that I live with aren't smart enough to know that they are causing a huge catastrophe for the person next in line by not replacing an empty toilet paper roll, there is no way they will remember pencils.
The more I am around children the more I have begun to decipher their language. Girl speak goes a little something like this, "drama, whine, cry." Boy speak goes like this, "blank stare, grunt, fart."
Girls will also throw themselves on you and cry until your shirt is wet. Boys will just punch you in the arm. I prefer the punching. There I have cracked the kid code. I wonder if I will get a Nobel prize.
On with the story......................................
I tried to give DJ a hug the other day. He shrugged me away and gave me a push. He has told me before that hugging kills his soul. Whatever. So I said, at least give me a smile if I'm not going to hug me. He said he was unable to smile. I told him I forgot that he couldn't smile because he had bell's palsy.
Evil, evil, evil,