Mean Mom

I had to "fuss" at my son today.

Being angry at my son is somewhat akin to, in the words of my dear friend Joel, bitch-slapping E.T.

He's just a good kid. He's sweet, he's funny, and he thinks I'm the best thing to ever walk the planet. He has mentioned several times that once he finds an appropriate wife (he's EIGHT) they will come and live with me. I explained to him that his wife would not like that and he said, "Ma! She'll love you! You're the best cook ever."

Sigh.

It's hard to get really mad at someone who worships you.

However. The child has, for about the seventh time this year already, lost his reading folder. He's lost his lunchbox, his homework folder, his jacket (three times), and several notes he was supposed to give to his teacher (which explained that no, really I'm not the worst mother on the planet, I just have an extremely absent minded son). He has GOT TO STOP LOSING THINGS.

So on the way to school after shrieking at him about losing his reading folder I said, "Boy Child. Someday you will be a grown-up and have a job. If you lose your important files and can't do your job, do you know what will happen? You'll lose your JOB. You won't have any MONEY. You won't be able to EAT."

And he said,

"Can I come eat with you?"

Good. Lord.