Telling Bonus that if he doesn't learn to tie his shoes soon, he's going to be living in my basement until he's 35, probably wasn't a good confidence-instiller for a five year old.
Promising him that we would still feed him until we move off without telling him was what I like to think of as 'being a better parent'.
Screaming F*CK when Deuce slammed his cast on my bare toes may not have been one of my finest parenting moments.
But walking out of the room afterward was probably a wise choice.
This aneurysm must be good for my weight as my clothes are fitting a little more loosely.
However, the huge bowl of homemade peach crisp with vanilla ice cream probably isn't.
A three year old in a full leg cast is tragic.
Unless he isn't in pain and has learned to use it as a weapon to fend off the attack of an angry brother; then it's funny.
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