A few days ago, I was meditating on the fact that it's been quite some time since I've heard the words "I HATE YOU!" spewing forth from Vaughn's mouth. I figured that the time had now come for a brief reprieve before the teen years set in and patted myself on the back for my superior parenting skills in subduing that particular rebellious preschool behavior. Then… there was today.
While driving home from school, as usual I was denying His Majesty some demand or other, hearing the predictable "Harrumph" and unintelligible grumblings from the back seat. Then I heard a sinister whisper in my ear,
"I...don't...L-I-K-E...you."
One of the many mixed blessings of parenting a kindergartner--being proud that he can spell and wanting to throttle him for being such a smartass.
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