or
We can’t ALL be June Cleaver, but we can act like her. Publicly, at least. These are a few of my confessions (your results may vary):
::~::
At the tee ball field: "Sweetie, you can't help your team if you're laying in the dirt - you gotta stand on the base, you silly goose!"
On the way home: "I can't believe you spent the entire game laying in the dirt! I'm not coming to another game ever again! Now you'll never play for the Red Sox!"
::~::
The In-laws hear all about the lovely salmon dish that you slaved over for their grandchild's birthday dinner, because that's what your precious baby wanted.
They do not hear about the rest of the week's menu, which was comprised mostly of Ramen soup and frozen pizza.
::~::
On 'Pajama Day' at school, every child is wearing freshly laundered, rip-free PJ's that are as cute as a button!
At home, fleece tops and bottoms are found, but it must be explained to the protesting child that it really is okay to wear a Lego Star Wars top with Super Mario Brothers bottoms.
::~::
Lunch for school is lovingly prepared, and contains the following items: a sunflower butter and banana sandwich on 100% whole wheat bread, with apple slices and an organic milk box.
Lunch at home is a can of Spaghetti-O's dumped in a bowl and nuked for 90 seconds,
and may or may not be served with a cup of coffee.
::~::
On school days, the kids always have on clean underwear.
On non-school days, they are just as likely to be going 'commando.'
::~::
C’mon, fess up! I can’t be the only one...
