While the family was at the mall shopping one evening, I called Brittney and asked her to do some Mother's day shopping for me. I told her there was a store near the Nike Store where Matthew works where she could pick something up. A few minutes later she called back to ask which store I specifically had in mind. I told her "Frederick's of Hollywood." There was a pause and then her response, "I'm not doing your dirty shopping for you."
A few weeks later one of Marti's friends and fellow girls camp counselors was over at the house. Marti shared the "dirty shopping" story with her while I was nearby. Her response, "I can't believe you did that." My respone, "hey, I figured it was a win/win situation." (If she did the shopping great, but if not the harrassment was still well worth it.)
During this same visit, Marti's friend shared that her and her brother were teenagers before they realized why their dad was always smiling and whistling while he made waffles on Saturday morning. Since then I have repeatedly put a waffle maker on my birthday/Christmas/anniversary list. Matthew and particularly Brittney do not find this request nearly as amusing as I do.
If our children need therapy someday, now you know why. Of course there is the point that after what our children say at the dinner table, maybe I'm the one who needs therapy.
(P.S. No pictures will be included with this blog posting.)