I have just patched up my son; this has given me a reason now to pause and think of just what kind of mother I am, or think I am. Or both.
You see, my son cut himself with a knife while he and I and Other Patti were settling down to dinner in front of the HDTV. The knife was just laying around, and I don’t know why Peter chose now as opposed to any other time to check out the knife.
So not only am I the sort of woman who keeps a house in which sharp knives can be found laying around, they are all my knives. So now, how can I yell at him? Well, I guess I could and probably should.
At least now I’ve got it off of my chest. I have to go watch a movie now…