Dogged By My Own Son

Yesterday I go to pick up my son and he's asleep. My daughter informs me that he has a big scratch on his face. My sitter tells me that he went into the pantry, without permission of course, to look for a box of animal crackers. The box fell out and scratched him all along his nose.

Last night I told him something about the big scratch. Something like, "You had to go get and get that big scratch before the party. It probably won't even clear up by Saturday."

And he answers, without missing a beat, "Yeah, well your pimple isn't going to clear up." (I wish I could remember his exact words!)

FOUR YEARS OLD!! Can you imagine! Dogged by my own son. I can only imagine what he's going to dish out when he's a teenager.

I've never been very good at comebacks. I always got dogged as a pre-teen and teenager and I never felt like I had quite the best come back.

What do you say to the kid in middle school who tells you on the bus, "Your butt is like theeeese!" as he runs his hand along the flat wall of the bus?

My response was usually to crack up. It was my natural reaction. It was freakin' hilarious! I was being honest. But I must admit that there was one part of me that wished I had come up with a better come back. A funny one and not necessarily a mean one.

I reacted the same way with my son. How can you reprimand such a great sense of humor? If I reacted like my parents would have 30 years ago I could endanger affecting a future comic in a negative way.

OK, we broke down. We got "Rock Band." I know, we're geeks! My daughter is belting out, "Say it ain't so," as I type this.

Crazy stuff going on at work, but I can't tell y'all about it. I just took my harassment training and blogging was actually touched upon. Yeah! Seriously! Gotta love Corporate America! And I do! Yes I do! Where else would I be collecting such fine writing material? Just kidding!