... but I still love you.

Ever have one of those days with your kids? Yeah. I've had months. I mean the things these boys do ... sigh. Case in point. The other day I ask my youngest son, Thing 2, to please pick up his dirty clothes. And with not a care in the world, he looks at me and asks ...

"What would make me want to do that?"

Now, if the child could see the images of rage induced chaos that I was imagining in my head, he would have seen a reason or six to make him want to do that.

"What did you just say, Ethan?" Surely he will redeem himself here. He can see I am handing him an 11th hour pardon.

"Why would I want to pick up my clothes?" It's on.

"GO. SIT. ON. THE. COUCH." I think my teeth may have small fractures from the amount of force I was using to grind them at this point.

He walks over like he's got this all figured out. Well, boy is he in for a surprise. I stomp into the kitchen and began pulling trash bags out of the box. I see panic flicker across his face. Then the serene mask of non-chalance is back.

I stomp down the hall with the bags and begin throwing things in. I hear him come in the room. I glare at him as I drop Buzz Lightyear in the bag. Now, can I stop a moment and just agree with everyone that this was not my finest moment as a parent. I am sure I missed about a dozen golden opportunities to talk with him about why this was going on. But, you know what, I didn't. I was going in for the kill. Someone was going to lose this battle, and I was in all out war mode.

"What?! Wait! Was that Buzz?" He is cracking.

"Yes. And this? This is your blank blank (his blanket he still cuddles with at night). And everything on this shelf? Gone." He is crying. I want to cry. But! I cannot look weak. I am a Spartan. Well, minus the rocking good body and leather underpants.

"You can EARN this stuff back one piece at a time." I walk out. YES! Win for mama. The kid was left with bed, a nightstand, and a dresser. I even took the things off the wall. Oh yes, it was like the Grinch.

So, fast forward through the week. I am dropping him off yesterday so I could head into work. He gives me a fantastic hug and a kiss.

"Mama, " he says, " you are the meanest mama in the world, but I love you lots and lots."

Well, what do you say to that?