“When I grow up, I’m going to be a billionaire and invent a robot that does my homework for me and cleans my room. I’ll call it a Botler.”
You have a Botler. It’s called “Mom”.
And honey, you realize that you have to do your homework now while you’re a poor 3rd grader so you’ll know HOW to build a Botler and make your billions. And are you going to take care of me in my old age and make sure my suite in the very nice assisted living facility is situated right next to George Clooney’s?
I had fun this morning taking one of the boys out of school and over to the doctor’s office for a checkup. I had planned on taking pictures of us playing hooky and drinking milkshakes from McDonald’s, but I realized that he might not want his medical privacy violated. Especially if he really invents the Botler and makes billions of dollars later on down the road…can’t hurt to be nice to the ones that pick out your nursing home. And I definitely don’t want to mess up my chance with Clooney.
While we’re at the doctor’s office, he picks up a brochure that deals with his particular affliction and begins reading.
“Hey, Mom! Did you know that positive reinforcement helps kids with *XYZ*?
Hey, Son! Did you know that a glass of wine never hurts their mom, either? And have you seen the sticker chart on the refrigerator? The one that has, umm, NO STICKERS on it?
“Mom, it says that sarcasm doesn’t help.”
I could not make this up if I tried.