Hey!

BOYS, PLEASE GO TO THE BATHROOM AND BRUSH YOUR TEETH.

BOYS, PLEASE GO TO THE BATHROOM AND BRUSH YOUR TEETH.

BOYS, PLEASE GO TO THE BATHROOM AND BRUSH YOUR TEETH.

BOYS, PLEASE GO TO THE BATHROOM AND BRUSH YOUR TEETH.

BOYS, PLEASE GO TO THE BATHROOM AND BRUSH YOUR TEETH.

BOYS, PLEASE GO TO THE BATHROOM AND BRUSH YOUR TEETH.

Six times.  And I said please. Big E didn't budge from his spot on the floor and Little E remained precariously balanced on the edge of the ottoman like he was preparing for an Olympic dive.  Neither one acknowledged that they actually heard or saw me.  Was I a ghost?  Was I Bruce Willis?

I want to be the non-yelling, calm mom.  I really do.  I don't want to nag my sons to the point that they leave for college and never return.  Or call.  Or acknowledge we are related.

But instead I lost my sh*t.  It was the end of the day.  As usual, I was exhausted and wanted to get the boys down so I could finish my chores and go to bed.

So I yelled.

HEY!

Super loud and fast.  Both boys levitated from their spots.

MOMMY, YOU SCARED ME!

Little E went running to the bathroom like he was on fire, nervously laughing while keeping his eye on the forever unstable Mrs. Yoy.

I WAS JUST CONDUCTING A HEARING CHECK.  I GUESS YOU GUYS CAN STILL HEAR.




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