It’s been a day. A full day of expressing frustration to my children over the fact that they Do.Not.Hear.My.Voice anymore.
Your children do that, too, right?!
So it had been a day like that. Full of repeating myself a minimum of three times, and usually resorting to The Yell. Or better yet, The Bellow (when The Yell goes down an octave.)
Benjamin got down from the supper table. He took his plate to the counter and left to wash his hands. And while he was doing all this, I asked him three time whether or not he wanted dessert.
He didn’t even look in my direction.
90% of me wanted to just go Ha! That’s what you get!
But instead I called out his name. Three more times.
He finally came back.
And the smile I got when he FINALLY heard me ask if he wanted cake? Was worth it.
Should have taken a picture. And tattooed it on the back of my hand.
Because I’m agonna need that memory, and I’m agonna need it hard.