It’s a bit morbid, I admit, but it does end arguments……
Me: “Go change clothes and put on LONG pants or tights and a LONG sleeved shirt.”
Sophie (age 8): “But, MOM, it gets HOT at school!”
Me: “I don’t care. It’s 37 degrees. Go change.”
S: “But, MOM, this is how BIG KIDS dress!”
Me: “I don’t care. Go change.”
Tears are shed and clothes are changed. As we drive to school, we pass a street corner with teens lolling around waiting on the bus. Wearing shorts with boots or jeans with flip-flops.
S: “SEE! I told you!”
Me: “Their mothers don’t love them and want them to get pneumonia and die.”
I’m driving on a busy four lane road when Sophie sees a kid (probably twelve or thirteen years old) walking on the sidewalk.
S: “MOM! Stop the car and let me out so I can walk home.”
Me: “That girl’s mama doesn’t love her and wants her to get hit by a car and die.”
S: “Can we go to ‘Spirit Night’ at Chick-Fil-A? ALL my friends are going tonight!”
Me: “No. We can’t eat fast food all the time.”
S: “But EVERYBODY else is going!”
Me: “Those mothers don’t love their children and let them eat crap and then they’ll get fat and have a heart attack and die.”