And then we sang

I’m a softie.

Yeah. It’s true. I don’t have an assertive bone in my body.

This means that disciplining Otis has not come naturally to me over the last 4 years.

I realize I’m blowing minds. I’ll give you a  minute to marinate in my truth.

Well, much like high school and college, I have let things slide until the very last minute and now I’m all, “We have got to get this kid under control!” And Mark just looks at me like:

To be fair, my kid is pretty awesome out and about, but when we’re around just family? He thinks he rules the roost.

So I’ve taken up giving him The Look when he starts acting a fool.

One of my first attempts at using The Look did not have the results I was expecting.

Me: Otis, I’m going to need you to stop that.

Otis: (Does that again.)


Otis: Mommy, you mad?

(You guys. I write and giphy search at the same time. I rarely see a gif and write a post around it. So I just searched “you mad” and this goodness came up and I’m like, “And you say there’s no God?”)

Well, now I want to giggle because I’m an Olympic Gold Winning Giggler #truestory, but I also want a child that doesn’t end up in jail, so I stay strong.


Otis: Mommy. Are. You. Mad?

Crap. He just used all the words in a sentence. I want to cheer. I want to celebrate. He used “are”! But I must resist. And I fully engage the most lookiest Look I can muster.


My kid is unphased. He repeats his question a few more times. And then he realizes something. This question, “Mommy, are you mad?” It should be a song.


And the song isn’t even something cute and sing-songy. He busts out his operatic voice and is like,  “Mommy are you MAAAADDDDDDD??” Taking the “mad” real deep like he’s in Phantom of the Fooling Opera.


And, just like my first semester of engineering Chemistry my freshman year at Tennessee Tech, I waited too long and failed miserably.

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