Do I sound like I should be institutionalized? Odds are I do because dinner with my children every single night has slowly chipped away at my soul and made me bat sh** crazy. I beg them every night.
PLEASE. PLEASE JUST ONE NIGHT – NOBODY COMPLAIN! PLEASE! NOONE CRY! PLEASE!
Liam was starting up. Fresh, homemade chicken soup — you know HORRIBLE FOOD. And I was looking and him and thinking to myself, “really”? How can you complain about this? It’s just soup. And it’s homemade. And it’s delicious. I can’t handle another second. It’s been 9 years worth of dinners. 9 x365 = madness. I don’t even want to calculate that number. I really don’t. Because if I do, I think I will crack in half.
So, I took my camera out and I started filming. I wanted to show him what he sounded like once it was all done. And you know what happened? He stopped. He stopped whining and crying and complaining and insulting. I couldn’t believe it. He actually STOPPED.
Did I find the secret, moms? Did I finally figure it all out? Was that all that I had to do all these years? JUST FILM THEM?