I’m Doomed.

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Cute kid, right? Cute dog, too. But here are three things that John has said to me recently:

“I can do it by myself.” (This is actually a positive step, but it was said with quite a bit of attitude.  I could do without the rolling of the eyes.)

“Mom, why do you have to be annoying?” (Yes, a punishment followed. Growing up is the goal here, but it is not an excuse for being rude.)

“All the best jokes involve the word butt.” (It was all I could do to keep a straight face. And I don’t necessarily disagree.)

He’s not quite nine. What am I going to do when there’s an actual teenage boy in the house? Like I said, I’m doomed.

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