|Happy Grilled Cheese Day!|
I remind myself that Cole is only three. Three. When I think about how short a time that is to be alive and to have soaked up the cultural mores of human beings I feel guilty.
He’s only trying to have fun and be with Mommy.
But, oh my goodness, when he just seems to have cotton balls in his ears and I have to repeat myself like twenty times, I want to run down the stairs, open the back door and run outside.
Then there’s Thomas screaming, I mean—SCREAMING—at the top of his lungs.
And then Genny will turn and snap when I say no about something: Oh! Fine! What-EVER!
And I’m standing there asking myself, oh my goodness, why is this so tough? They are only three little children and I am one big, smart, strong adult.
And then there is my answer staring me in the face: they are a much larger army than I.