The Time I Couldn't Come Up With a Title

It's a good thing that I'm basically made of stone.  We've tried to teach our kids to talk nicely to each other and use kind words but that has not taken root in our youngest as well as we had hoped.  He's the first of my kids to ever say, "I hate you," and often, when he's upset, Hewitt will let me know that I'm "the worst mom."  He's also the first kid of mine to cry about going to school because, "I just want to stay with you! I love you so much!" so I take it all with a grain of salt.

Last night I didn't start dinner at home and our evening was full.  Jeremiah and Isaac went to the Bishop's Storehouse to help stock shelves and the rest of the crew and I went to pack meeting.  Scouts wasn't done until 8 and we still hadn't had dinner so I swung by the ever-so-handy Little Caesar's to pick up a pizza.  The kids were elated.

On the way home Hewitt said, "Mom, that's so nice of you to get us pizza.  Next time that I say you're the worst mom just remind me that one time you bought me a pizza for dinner."

"How about the next time you're about to call me the worst mom you stop and think of all the nice things I do for you?"

"Oh, that's a good idea!"

Clearly the thought had never occurred to him.