Do You Need a Beverage?

So we have been having some behavior issues with our son in school. New year- more problems.

I have been talked to by his aftercare teacher everyday except for one. It’s been two weeks of school people…

Let’s recap the week…

So my son asked on Tuesday if we could go to McDonald’s for breakfast and I told him we could go but he had to do well in before and after care for a week.

So he did well on Tuesday- the only day, mind you.

So Wednesday comes and Joe has to pick up the kids. He talks to the daycare teacher and she says “your son hasn’t been listening and I told him that he was trying to earn McDonald’s and he said to me, ‘well, my dad is picking me up- not my mom, and he doesn’t know about McDonald’s.'”

Oh my dear sweet son- mommy will find out.

So now it’s Thursday morning and it’s still dark out because teachers get up with the rest of the farmers. Joe and I are running around the kitchen packing lunches and our sweet son strolls into the kitchen… and this is how the morning went down…

First, to set the right mood, I turned off the main kitchen lights and only had on the one light dangling over the kitchen table…

“Hey buddy. Why don’t you come sit down for a minute.” -me

…and as he sat down, I pushed that lamp over the kitchen table so it gently rocked back and forth barely breaking the dark morning and lighting his face with every other swing…

“Uhh, mommy, what are you doing?” -Sweet son

“So, I heard what you said to your daycare teacher. About not needing to do a good job because daddy didn’t know about McDonald’s.” -me

…his little brown eyes were quickly filling with bullshit. They quickly darted to joe who was gently swaying back and forth in his boxers…

“No! I didn’t say that!” -Sweet, innocent son

“Oh really? I am pretty sure you aren’t telling me the truth. It looks like you are sweating…” -me

“What?” -Sweet child

“It looks like you are sweating. Do you need a beverage?” -me

“What’s a beverage?” -sweaty child

…the light started to slow down so I gave it another push…

Then the good cop steps in… still in his boxers…

“Listen, this is what she told me and she said  that you said, that mommy wouldn’t find out…” -Good cop and boxer wearing, Joe

“I would rather you tell me the truth…” -me

“Ok. I said that!” -guilty child

And that is how I get a confession out in my house; plus, we saved on our electric bill.

Until next time,

I’m the bad cop


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I am a mother of three small children with a wonderful husband. Having children is not as simple as black and white. Having kids is black, white and crazy. I hope you enjoy my blog of my crazy escapades.

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