My precocious 9 – year old is at it again. Recently, she has dubbed me, “the fun sponge”.
If I have to say no, “ruin” play time with school, say anything remotely intelligent, she breaks out the “fun sponge” name.
According to my precious babe, I suck the life out of the fun. Wow! Ok, I can own that. After all, my job is to make sure what needs getting done, gets done.
Last night, she upgraded me to the official, “Sponge Mom” title. It’s too close to the irritating, little yellow sponge cartoon, that makes me wanna to be tortured with hearing nails on a chalkboard, than hear his laugh, but I got this.
I cannot share that fact with my daughter. I just smile, let her know she is still to do as instructed because life isn’t fun all the time. I know, such a meanie by making her responsible.
Oh, her teenage years are going to be fun. She won’t think so, but I certainly will. She hasn’t seen nothing yet.