Call me Gandhi. I'm all about peace. I put bird food in the feeder regularly. I stop for little old ladies crossing the road. I shower my kids with love. I shoo away flies instead of swatting them.
Now in my family I was never the one to yell. I am the cryer. If I yell, everyone freezes(well, everyone but my kids, they are use to it) But I just do not get mad like that. I don't scold people. I don't get all up in their grill and bust a cap in their.... you get the point. I am a pacifist.
A certain someone decides to stick his finger in the hole in my jeans and rip them completely beyond repair. Why? Why, you would ask, would someone want to intentionally rip my pants? Me too.
See I love my husband more than chocolate cake. But that boy! I saw him laughing at my favorite pair of pants that have a big a$$ hole by the pocket. But those pants are the most comfortable, most wonderful, extraordinary pair of jeans EVER! Oh I think I love those pants more than chocolate cake too. (hold on, I have to get a tissue, just thinking about the poor fate of my gap jeans just makes me tear up. RIP favorite jeans!)
So I see him eyeing the jeans, and knowing that he can't resist a good hole. (Yes, I get the humor in that statement) I told him not to even think about ripping them. Not sure what that translated to in his head. But about an hour later as we are walking upstairs to put the kids to bed.. it happens. That little BEEP BEEP BEEPING BEEP BEEP stuck his big fat finger in my pants and before I knew it.... RRRRIIIIPPPP!
And that's when Gandhi turned more into a VH1 Reality Show character. I freaked. I screamed and went straight to the closet and found... his favorite comfy shirt. You know the one with the holes around the collar. And...
I feel much better now.
Earning My Punishments
6 hours ago