It appears I can get into fights with my children without being within MILES of them.
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I came home from school last Friday a glittery, gluey, markery, exhausted mess.
Within ten minutes of my time of arrival I had not one, not two, but ALL THREE of my children not speaking to me. (And ONE doesn’t even LIVE here. It’s a talent.)
Tori was furious because I happened to open a letter that was addressed to ME outlining the reasons why she MIGHT NOT be graduating, which MIGHT have something to do with the correspondence course she has continued to claim she is working on. Had I known that I wasn’t to open my own mail, I might have avoided that particular screaming match.
Sarah was livid, and called me after her return from the orthodontist (conveniently located eight blocks from her dorm) where they had just finished putting braces BACK on her teeth. I spent 1 hour and ten minutes convincing them that there was no way I was paying for braces a second time, considering the fact that we have paid them over one million dollars in the last 10 years, and are STILL paying them monthly while eating ramen noodles and hot dogs every other night.
Suffice to say they were convinced. (Or they didn’t want my loud DISCUSSION to continue to irritate the crowded waiting room.) And I must say- they ended up being very, very great about the whole thing. Perhaps I OVERREACT sometimes. The good news? New Braces. The bad news? College girls don't LIKE braces.
Matthew (not one to be left out) decided to throw in HIS five cents (inflation, people) and yelled at me because HIS FATHER wouldn’t take him to camp Thursday night when the adult boys were going. His father told him that he could not come to fishing camp until after school Friday. I guess Matthew didn’t realize that screaming at your chauffer is NOT a good thing. (Fortunately for him, the prospect of a fairly quiet weekend had us out the door faster than, well, faster than Alex Kenney running the 100-yard dash.)
Sometimes, I don't even have to lift a finger to start the fireworks.