The Baddest Mom

I have a confession. I've done some bad things today. Maybe the worst things I've ever done. And I have done some pretty bad things in my life...

Like when I was in second grade and repeatedly tried to tempt my neighbor and fellow classmate into eating holiday treats and singing holiday songs, knowing full well that she was a Jehovah's Witness and was not permitted to do such things.

And when I was ten, I was on a baby-sitting job, chowing down on my fourth popsicle when I heard the parents come in the door. Too embarrassed for them to see that I'd raided their freezer, I shoved my popsicle under the couch before they walked into the living room. (I know, I'm an idiot.) I wonder if they were able to get the unsightly purple stain out of the carpet when they moved out? I guess I'll never know...

Anyway, my actions this afternoon have been much, much worse. At this moment, both of my daughters are in their rooms wallowing in their misfortune of having me as their mother. I said no to cookies for breakfast. I vetoed Katelyn's wardrobe selection because I felt it was missing something (like... sleeves?) I refused to give Emily paper and crayons unless she asked politely, and also wouldn't allow her to wear her new church dress while scribbling with markers. Oh yeah, and I also forbid them to jump off the couches or stick their fingers in the candle that's burning on the mantle. Like I said, terrible, TERRIBLE things...

It's no wonder I was just crowned with the title as "The Baddest Mom". In the mean time, I'm making the most of the silent treatment the girls are giving me. (Is that supposed to be a punishment? Ouch.) I wonder what they'll think of me when I tell them I'm putting them to bed at 6 o'clock tonight.