I was roughhousing with Big G today, which (as usual) ended in tickles. As I tickled him, he fell on the floor and bumped his arm. It was, of course, completely my fault: “Mom! You hurt me!” I love these moments, because they’re always tinged with the idea that I did it on purpose. I apologized profusely, and this was his reply:
“You hurt me when you tickled me. That was a bad thing to do. You should have listened to God.”
Of course, being the stellar mom that I am, when he was bugging me later in the day I said, “I’m pretty sure God is telling me that you need to play somewhere else.”
So are any of you going to nominate me for mom of the year, or should I just put my own name in?