It's not just a job, it's an adventure

So, parenting is always interesting, right? Our mornings are like the proverbial box of chocolates, because Agent K (much like myself) isn't really one for rising and shining with the chickens, and wakes up crabby more often than not. (For the record, and in the interest of fairness, she was in a delightful mood yesterday morning and played harmoniously with Pirate Boy all the way to school, making their little animal-shaped erasers talk to each other in the car while I hummed along to worship songs. Miracles do happen.)

But this morning was a more typical day, and Agent K and I got into a spat over being out of milk that culminated in her stomping out of the kitchen to go teach me a lesson by not eating breakfast and me using my most serious Mom voice to tell her to get back to the table and eat her food right now. Silence hung heavy over the house as I got dressed, and we loaded up backpacks and lunchboxes and headed to school. Agent K was cheerful in the car, though, and she chatted pleasantly with Pirate Boy, so I was optimistic that the storm was passing quickly and we could get on with our day. In the parking lot at school, I waited for K to get out of the car, and then put my arm around her. Her arm quickly squeezed me around my waist. "I love you, you know," I said, planting a kiss on her forehead. She smiled. "The thing is, I wasn't mad at you," she admitted. "I was sobered." I was pleasantly surprised, because "sobered," I can live with. In fact, it's kind of the whole point of discipline. But before I spent too much time basking in the glow of her maturity, she went on. "...and I thought maybe you had poisoned me. Like the Duchess of Lexford, back in sixteen-something." Uh...huh. I nodded. "Well, thanks for the vote of confidence."

Clearly, it really is possible for a child to read too much.