I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t. Tonight we had to wash a Boy Genius’ mouth out with soap.
Once it was all said and done, Bryan and I were in the kitchen, listening to him brushing his teeth for the third time and spitting profusely into the sink. Quietly, Bryan asked me, “We did the right thing, right?” Then, Boy Genius walked through the kitchen, mumbling something about still having the taste in his teeth, when Bryan asked him, “So does [insert friend name here] say those kinds of words?” Boy Genius responded “Yea,” as if it were a silly question. Once Boy Genius was out of earshot, Bryan turned to me and said, with the hint of a smirk, “So, are you going to call [again, insert friend’s name here]’s mom like …” and before he could finish, because I knew where he was going, I remarked “No, I will not be Ralphie’s mom.”
Yes, we have a seriously problem, when, in the midst of an important parenting “moment,” the two adults-in-charge are clearly only thinking of A Christmas Story.