It has been a banner couple of parenting days here in our household. I had gotten in the habit of saying son of bees instead of son of bitches and sweet peanuts instead of Jesus Christ. Over dinner the other night I spilled something on the table and busted out my son of bees. Immediately Em says son of bees. I, of course, think this is hilarious and begin laughing. Paul just sat there and shook his head at me.
Our morning today included a phone call to poison control after Em took a bite out of a dish pack, 2 leaking windows, and some temper tantrums. Our evening included Paul allowing Em to eat icicles off the side of our house.
Yes, when they hand out awards for parents of the year we shall surely be a top contender.
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