I got busted the other day. I walked into the in-laws to pick up hubby wearing the absolute cutest pair of red high heels you've ever seen. My sister-i-l says, "I see you're wearing a pair of your new shoes."
Hubby was standing behind her. Of course, she expected that, since I'd confessed online for all and sundry to see, that hubby knew. She did not know that hubby only reads my blog once in a blue moon and hadn't seen my confession yet.
Let's just say there was a lot of high-pitched accusations and finger pointing. Hubby wasn't ver happy either. :) I reminded him of a few home truths and finally ended my argument by saying that it was his birthday and I bought my self some shoes in observance. He didn't think this was funny. He also didn't like my contention that I was only replacing the shoes I've got to get rid of. The math didn't add up. I should have expected him to come to that conclusion. He's had college math classes after all. They teach you there that two pairs of torn up shoes is not equivalent to 6 pairs of new shoes intended to replace them.
In other news, it looks like my boy is probably going to get to go to school this year. He just has to have his name approved by the people in charge. I kind of think that might be a formality. It dawned on me the other day that I'll have to buy school clothes for the first time ever. That makes me sad. His first day of school will be on his birthday. That makes me sad for him too. He's excited about riding the bus and making friends and I'm sure Mommaw is excited about the daily break though, I think that if I was going to chose one to have a break from, it would be the baby.
That one is, as I've frequently assured people, 20 pounds of absolute unadulterated rage. Seriously, you've never seen such a temper. I've never given birth to any other child that is even remotely comparable to this child when it comes to his temper. Wednesday, as we were getting ready for bible study and youth group, the tried to hit me with his fist because I wouldn't let him pour bath water all over the bathroom floor. His daddy made him mad a few days ago and he ran up the stairs crying. I was told that, all you could hear after that was things being thrown in his room. Then he went to my room, laid down behind a chair and screamed inconsolably for several minutes. That part is on tape. I believe this entire episode was triggered by hubby not giving him the sippy cup he preferred. Yep, that's about all it takes with that one. I've afraid he's going to be the youngest person ever to take part in anger management classes. He has some isssues. His favorite thing to do when he's mad is throw things. Gets that from his daddy, for sure!
How cute was he here? He's still cute, but you don't want to turn your back on him. I'm serious.
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