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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.”

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