Tonight is TheKid’s fifth grade graduation. We went and bought dress pants, a dress shirt & tie last night. He is NOT pleased. Me? I’m thrilled. Not necessarily because he’s dressing up but if I have to sit through the mind numbing ceremony of which I only care about approximately 30 seconds, then he should have to suffer to. Mature? Nope. Do I care? Nope.

We had the following conversation earlier:

Me: “Go shower so you can get dressed”
TheKid: “Do I have to brush my hair?”
Me: “Yes. And use soap and shampoo when you shower.”
TheKid: “What?!!? Oh MAN this SUCKS.”

Upon arriving home and finding him all spiffy and clean and dressed, I immediately pulled out my camera and squealed. He rolled his eyes and informed me that before I’d gotten home he’d gone and found one of our male neighbors to ask how he looked. I asked why and received the following response:

“Because he’s a MAN Mother. You wouldn’t understand. You’re a woman AND my mother so you do things like…squeal and take pictures.”

Oops.