I have an interview at 6pm....my son who knows he isn't allowed to take food or drinks out of the kitchen....just spilled a glass of crystal light on the carpet of his bedroom, which doubles as a nap room.
You could use some towels and stand on them to get up the water part and use carpet cleaner to spot clean and use another towel to get up water again. Maybe after nap give him the hair dryer to dry the carpet?
I ONLY JOKING WITH YOU!!!! Because my DS was the same as the one you describe in all your loving posts about him and I feel for you more than words can say! I also happen to know you have a good sense of humor! I can tell from your posts and the fact that you haven't given him up for adoption yet! LOL!! :::: I figured you needed a laugh and this article was amusing to say the least. (((((lots o love)))))
I read the article I hope I"m not raising a douchebag?!
I loved this comment:
My twins are 19. They're okay people. Nice. Polite. Did okay in school. Will do okay in life. We get along well and we're all pretty happy. Many people have asked me what I did (I was a single mother from when they were around 3) to "make them turn out so well". I thought about it. • I said 'no' alot • bed time was bed time ... in their own beds after one story • dinner time was dinner time; whatever was on the table was what was on offer ... be it leftover Kraft dinner with diced hot dogs or pot roast with glazed carrots; if they didn't eat it, they went to bed hungry • we laughed a lot • when I promised something, I stuck to it; if I knew I couldn't provide it, I didn't promise it • they had summer jobs starting at age 15 • I taught them how to swim by throwing them into the Gatineau River when they were babies - they figured out how to swim back to me, no problem • we went out for ice cream once a week all summer • they were allowed one extra activity - not two, not seven, not twelve - one; and it couldn't be hockey • my Native friends taught them how to make a bow and arrow from a branch - just in case they got lost in the woods To all the parents who think that playing Mozart to their fetus or signing them up for jazz ballet with a Bob Fosse wannabe or sending them to train-your-own-camel-in-a-week summer camp will make them turn out to be geniuses, think about it: we can't all be geniuses. Some of us have to be just regular, nice people, who live a nice, ordinary life. With ice cream.
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