Playing God
Today, I took the life of my oldest son into my own hands.
I feel strong, though. I'm certain I have made the proper decision, despite what my critics might think. Sometimes, we moms simply need to trust our instincts. I would do anything for that kid...
...except let him wear shorts to school today.
Granted, it's 64 degrees right now. It, however, is January and therefore it is not shorts weather.
He is certain he is going to die today of sweat. He told me so. Of course, he is wearing a double layer Under Armor sweatshirt, and he has no plans of removing it, I'm sure. "Coat" my hiney. That's his way of getting to wear it every day...as a jacket. Clever. Especially since this is the kid who never wants to wear one.
He told me he doesn't appreciate me taking chances with his life. I told him I was willing to take that risk. If he needed me to pick him up from school today in a bucket, we would cross that bridge when we came to it. If he dies, it's on my head.
I waved him goodbye, he shot me a dirty look. I got the silent treatment all morning. I didn't mind. Ah, the sacrifices we moms make.
Pray for us. Pray that he won't perish in a tragic melting accident. Pray that, if he does, I have the strength to go on. Pray that I can be a solace to other mothers whose children have also melted...melted because they wore pants.
Meems has claimed his room. I told her she's jumping the gun.
He's a good kid. I sure will miss him.
I feel strong, though. I'm certain I have made the proper decision, despite what my critics might think. Sometimes, we moms simply need to trust our instincts. I would do anything for that kid...
...except let him wear shorts to school today.
Granted, it's 64 degrees right now. It, however, is January and therefore it is not shorts weather.
He is certain he is going to die today of sweat. He told me so. Of course, he is wearing a double layer Under Armor sweatshirt, and he has no plans of removing it, I'm sure. "Coat" my hiney. That's his way of getting to wear it every day...as a jacket. Clever. Especially since this is the kid who never wants to wear one.
He told me he doesn't appreciate me taking chances with his life. I told him I was willing to take that risk. If he needed me to pick him up from school today in a bucket, we would cross that bridge when we came to it. If he dies, it's on my head.
I waved him goodbye, he shot me a dirty look. I got the silent treatment all morning. I didn't mind. Ah, the sacrifices we moms make.
Pray for us. Pray that he won't perish in a tragic melting accident. Pray that, if he does, I have the strength to go on. Pray that I can be a solace to other mothers whose children have also melted...melted because they wore pants.
Meems has claimed his room. I told her she's jumping the gun.
He's a good kid. I sure will miss him.
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