We were having dinner, and I was bored senseless waiting for my seventeen year old daughter to finally clear her plate. But what’s a parent to do?! You’re supposed to teach your kids to stay at the table until everybody’s finished, so I was held hostage by my own parenting etiquette.
This meant I was delighted when my youngest son Pete (9) came over and gave me a hug. I closed my eyes to cherish this special moment. Then Pete said with his sweet little boy voice: ‘Mom, you stole four dollars from my piggy bank, didn’t you?’
And I’m ashamed to admit he was right. Although personally I prefer the term ‘borrowed’.
Je m’excuse.
