What qualifies? You’ve probably already posted one! It’s an amazing/hilarious/miraculous/outrageous and (mostly) true story that has happened to you! Find that last family legend you posted about, add the True Story Tuesday link into it (copy and paste the code below the button on the right sidebar into your post), then come back and add your post to the link beneath this week’s tale below!
(Please click on your actual post title, then copy and paste the “permalink” that will get us to your actual post – that’ll keep us from getting lost! :)
This week brought to you by a mother who dearly loves her child, but believes some payback may be in order…
Always Ask First… ALWAYS
I need to preface this with a note to all persons who do not yet have children:
They start like this:
And all is really and truly wonderful.
If you still want to have kids, I offer fair warning that this may be rather traumatizing…
Still here? You must be one of these kind:
On with Mommy’s tale of woe:
So I was minding my own business, helping Mr. Daddy reorganize his Hunting pictures file.
Cuz Lord Knows you need to keep all of your bloody pictures in one clearly labeled folder to prevent family members from unintentionally stumbling across one of a headless carcass hanging from someone’s garage crossbeams with a couple of unshaven dudes in camo holding a heart and liver apiece.
You can’t erase that mental image dude… you just can’t.
Upon realizing that it was approaching the much maligned hour of BEDTIME, I casually threw out a “go get your pajama bottoms on honey” to the cute little kiddo that was racing past.
Well, that little racer went into a skid and his feet went out from under him as soon as his socks hit the wood floor of the dining room.
He screwed his face up in a dramatic OWIE expression and attempted a few (pathetic) fake whines.
“You okay honey? You’re okay. Go grab your jammies, alright?”
Itty Bit disappeared into the bedroom. After a few seconds, this is what I was expecting to see:
(the pic is from a couple years ago, but I LOVED those pj’s and that’s the floor he slipped on)
I went back to moving the pictures into the clearly labeled Blood and Guts file as Itty Bit suddenly came around the corner and held his finger in my face.
He whined and whined and fake cried some more.
I was rather distracted and leaned forward, grabbed his injured finger and kissed, kissed, kissed it.
He whined some more.
“Mommy Mommy …unintelligible…”
“Mommy, I said, SMELL IT!”
Friends, I cannot even begin to explain the sudden horror at understanding his words.
It was like a verbal stun gun. Maybe more like a nasal stun gun?
I looked at him in shocked silence.
And haltingly, the words returned.
With wide eyes, and utmost control:
“Honey? Where was your hand?”
Anyone else remember that he has ALWAYS been able to make this face?
Heaven help me.
That boy grinned that terribly mischievous little grin
and slowly stuck his hand down the back of his Lightning McQueen underwear.
OH YES HE DID!
Mr. Daddy howled with laughter.
Howled in a very unsupportive and unsympathetic way.
Howled and howled and nearly fell off his chair.
As I wiped my lips on his shirt over and over again…
“Smell my finger!”
“YOU GET AWAY FROM ME BUDDY!”
Why yes, I did brush my teeth 14 times that night – and Mr. Daddy still won’t kiss me.
Your kids give you any payback-worthy stories? Or perhaps your parents have some blackmail items on you? Link ‘em up below and we’ll be around for some comment love!