For three mornings my husband Jim has listened to what my mornings are like with our kids.
He is on vacation this week and with no where to go, as the kids are not on break.
Today they shamed him into driving them to school. His parting words? “Boarding school cannot possibly cost much more than a really good private school.”
Well, welcome to my world Jim, with three boys who act like it’s Saturday night at a fraternity party, every morning.
Where Avery counts your chews to make sure you don’t over chew and make him late.
Where Peter pterodactyl screams because Avery sits across from him and announcing his every chew.
Where I find Mitchell drinking a cup of coffee and giggling about it and when I tell Peter if he screams one more time I will park him for the evening.
Where I hear Mitchell whisper to Peter he will make it his morning goal to get Peter to scream, so he gets grounded and where Peter dryly get up from the breakfast table and decides to only walk at the speed of a zombie while dragging one leg behind him.
Welcome Jim to what I call a “typical morning.” I hope you don’t hit a deer on your way to school like I did recently, story [here.]
I hope they don’t tell their friends as they get put of the car that you drink “alcohol” all morning and in the car on the way to school just because you yelled out of the window, “bye have a great day!”
Remember Jim, don’t look at them when they exit the car, no talking to them and don’t ever let the radio be on anything “not cool.”
BTW, what was cool yesterday may not be today.
I wonder if they would let just one mom go to a boarding school?
Heck, I’m even willing to learn to punctuate. Would you write me a letter of recommendation and one for my boys? Can you mention that they act like they drink alcohol every morning so they don’t let them in. You may mention my poor writing skills and you feel I need to go back to school, (or an extended spa break.)
“Have you boys seen my sunglasses?”
Abbie Gale at allthatmakesyou.com
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PS If you are a publisher or producer email me and I will give you my phone number. If you are Child Protective Services email me and I will give you the phone number of someone I don’t like. If you want to come and help me fold clothes and put them away I will give you my address and a big kiss.
Hahaha, love the “counting your chews”! I remember actually doing that when I was a kid – I was told to chew 32 times, each mouthful, before swallowing and taking another bite … perhaps that’s why I’m now the slowest eater on the planet today! LOL!