Your parents were right


If you’ve read my blog at all, you know by now that I’m a mother.  As a mother it’s my responsibility to say “no” to everything that might be even remotely fun for my kids to do.  No running with scissors, no playing tag in the street, no dancing in the middle of a WalMart parking lot, no ingesting things that look like they might be candy but are actually medication of some sort (or possibly buttons), no putting your brother in a box and pushing him down the stairs because you saw it in a movie, no screaming Christmas carols at the top of your lungs when you’re inside during rest time, no putting chopsticks in your ears to see how far they go.

See?  I’m no fun!

Well, it pays to listen to your own advice.  Just this weekend I decided to race down the stairs in a big fat rush.  I went sliding down half a flight (thankfully the stairs are both carpeted and broken up into two short flights).  My back is sore, my neck is sore, and my (sadly ample) hind end is sore too!  I am now a walking cautionary tale to my kids, and although I’m in a fair amount of pain, I did see my daughter think twice before jogging with scissors in her hand yesterday…


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