I’m certain there’s a long list of things I do wrong as a parent, and before Malin or Laura (or Katie) rushes to document them, let me preempt them with the most recent blinding failure.  We work hard to teach the boys to be polite, to ask nicely and say thank you.  By and large they’re very good about it, I think. Not always, mind you, but they haven’t yet threatened to burn down the house if we don’t comply, so I think we’re on the right track.

Sometimes when they ask me to go get something for them, I’ll say, “hmm, well maybe I could, if I really wanted to.  Maybe if you give me a kiss I’ll want to go do it for you…”  I don’t exactly do this all the time, mind you, but anything that gets extra hugs and kisses from your kids should be considered fair game, right?  Well, yesterday when I got home from work, I said “Hi” to the boys, and asked Nic if he’d give me a hug.  He kind of ignored me, and then he noticed that Trouble was missing (his stuffed animal, the black lab).  I asked him where Trouble was, and Nic told me he was upstairs.  Then he said, “if someone wants to go get him for me, I’ll give them a hug.”

There it is.  My son just reinvented prostitution.  <sigh>

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