Parents Break Promises

Driving to school this morning –

Me- would you guys rather have roasted chicken or grilled pork tenderloin for dinner tonight?
The Giant-tenderloin.
Me- What about a vegetable? I could roast up some brussel sprouts with lemon and pine nuts?
The Giant- You promised me that you would never make me try brussel sprouts.
(This is true. Before I discovered roasted sprouts, I had vowed that they would never stink up my kitchen but, honestly, does this kid have to remember EVERY WORD I’VE EVER SAID?!)
Me- Well, I may just have to eat my words.
The Giant- they probably taste even worse than brussel sprouts.
The Ginger- Especially the mean ones.
The Giant- They’re not so much mean as grating. Like, you wouldn’t even have to grate cheese in advance if you ate it with your words.
Me- Mmmmm. Words with creamy mozzarella.
The Ginger- No, REALLY grating Mom. Like you could grate a Pecorino.
The Giant- Forget a hard cheese. Think more along the lines of nutmeg.
…..pulling up in front of the school…..
The Ginger- Is anyone else having Mustard? You know? Like Dijon-vu? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen this place before.

Day drinking, anyone?!

About peikleberry

What's to say? I'm a chronic fun seeker and life marrow sucker. I live in an ancient brick house in a darling town with my perfect and tolerant husband, my two amazing teenagers (The Giant and The Ginger) and two blue Danes (Oliver and Periwinkle). A lover of obscure roadside attractions and museums of oddity, I travel, write, laugh, make friends, write letters, sometimes run, eat great food and drink good whiskey. I've never had a bad journey and every single day is my grandest adventure.
This entry was posted in confessions of the Weird and Unashamed, Teenagers - one eye roll from certain death and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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