Come on, Mom.

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Me: Honey, please pick up your markers.
P: Not right now.
M: Yes please. If there are markers on the floor we might slip and fall.
P: I won’t. I’ll be careful.
M: P, please pick up the markers. I might slip and fall.
P: Damn it, Mommy. Can’t you just be careful?

4 thoughts on “Come on, Mom.”

  1. hahahahahahaha!

    I can totally hear YOU in him. That’s great. (For us to read, anyway. Probably not great for you.)

  3. Oh, I waited until he looked away to laugh my ass off. I am rather impressed that improv training means I can keep my totally justified and unparental bursts of laughter at him on the inside while I bend him to my will on the outside. He’s all talk, by the way. He cleaned them up willingly ‘cuz he always cleans up willingly. For now. I just cannot get over the hilarious use of “damn it.” I have no reason to correct it, I have no incentive to push him since he’s already doing what I tell him to. So I just bide my time and laugh when he’s not looking.

  4. Tee hee. That’s one of my favorite parts of parenting, really — exchanging amused looks with husband after kiddo said/did something outrageous or hilarious or unexpected.

    You’re right: P used the phrase correctly… ;)

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