The other day, on our way to a holiday party, you and your sister were in the back seat of the car pretending to talk on the phone. You held an empty snack cup up to your ear and began babbling in a high-pitched voice. Then you turned your head and shouted, “Be quiet! I’m on the phone!” Then you turned back to your sister and said into your ‘phone’, “Sorry about that. It’s my kids.”
What followed that was about two minutes of stifled laughter from the front seat, where your parents sat trying to keep it together and not miss anything.
“What’s wrong, Buddy?” your Dad chimed in.
“It’s my kids!” you answered.
“Oh ya? What are they doing?”
“They keep yelling and screaming while I’m on the phone!” You looked genuinely frustrated by the rudeness of your imaginary children.
“That must be really annoying, huh?”
“Ya.” [deep sigh]
We hear ya, Buddy. We literally hear you. All the time. On every phone call.
And then your sister, playing the role of school principal at your children’s school, asked you what your children’s names were.
“My boy’s name is Tet. My girl’s name is Coludy (not a mistype). And my other girl’s name is Janey.”
“Well, your two girls are very nice and they will be getting treats, but your boy is in deep trouble.”
“[sigh] I know. He’s always in trouble.”
We seriously could not keep it together in the front seat. I think I started crying (ie: laughing from my eyes).
And then this gem happened when you continued to scold your irreverent children:
“I’m the boss! I’m the boss of everything!”
I hate to tell you this, kid, but you aren’t even the boss of the back seat. You go ahead and dream big, though, and enjoy those unruly children! It’s probably because their grandparents spoil them 😉