After I posted yesterday's post, I couldn't stop crying. Is that not pathetic? I still feel bad, I just don't think that I will cry at the drop of a hat today. Good. It was getting hard to just function yesterday! Weeping while you are making Christmas Cookies is not a good combo.
I have been waking up every morning to my son playing his heart out on the piano. Which reminds me right now of my Oldest. Good grief, this is funny.
First off, I don't give a rip what any of you think about the idea of spanking. I do it and I could care less if any of you do or don't and think I am terrible on account of it. In my house it works, in my parents house it worked, and in most homes I see it done properly (without anger and strife mixed with it) it definitely works. My two cents. So, with that nice preface, here is my story: I was about to spank my Oldest (yes, I did say my Oldest---gasp, yes, he is eleven---he needed it too) because he so major back talked that the parental gods of justice screamed out when as I lifted his sweat shirt I realized that his jean-covered butt looked strange. As I actually bore down with my spoon I realized that I was spanking my own jeans.
"You are wearing my jeans," I said to the Oldest.
"What?!" I am sure that was the furthest idea from his mind at the moment.
"You are wearing my jeans!" I exclaimed in horror.
"These are yours?"
They fit him perfectly.
He messed with the waist line and tugged them up a bit. "I wondered why they fit all weird."
He walked off.
"Get them off!"
"Because they are my jeans!"
I burst out laughing, I couldn't help it.