My parents have told me stories about the crazy things that my sister and I did when we were wee ones. I always thought that they were exaggerating. Surely we weren't that ridiculous.
There was the one about the time my sister and I were forced to share a queen sized bed in a motel while on a family vacation. I woke up with deep bruises on my legs, and my sister's excuse was "I accidentally kicked her....twice."
Then there was the one about the middle school me who threw an absolute tantrum when my parents told me that I could not leave the house for the bus via the backdoor that day, for whatever reason. We lived on a corner lot and I freaked out insisting that I should have been informed of this development earlier, because it would now take me longer to get to my bus stop, you know because I had to walk around the corner....
I have come to learn that parents just can't make this stuff up, and they don't have to.
Examples from my own to angels this morning:
Evan: I ate my breakfast! I'm so full. Can I have a Valentine's Day chocolate now? (See below for what he ate from his breakfast-about two mini bites of peanut butter toast. )
I guess I need to give him credit for the five blueberries he ate as well. I don't know how that kids survives. Dinner the night before was approximately 1.5 bites of the Subway sandwich he begged me to get him. Living on air.
Zack: Stop looking at me Evan! You're looking at me! Mom! Evan's looking at me.
Evan: No you stop looking at me! Don't look at me!
Just what am I suppose to do with that? This fiasco actually ended up being so dramatic that Evan threw up from crying too hard. Because his brother was looking at him. Oh God forbid.
Like I said. We can't make this stuff up.