As Bad as Daddy

Today, I thought I would share a story from 2001 when Elder would have been five years old . . .

The other day, I wasn’t feeling particularly well. So, I camped out on the sofa with a blanket, a book and the TV remote. Now, I never watch real television. Usually, I concede to the boys when they want to watch cartoons or to my husband when he wants to channel surf. So, even as ill as I was, I had to stamp out the little insurrection that erupted when I turned the channel to Law and Order, otherwise titled “Mommy’s Show.”

I overruled Elder and Scooby Doo with relative ease. Then Steve sank onto the sofa beside me and mentioned with a woebegone look, “I wanted to watch S-I-M-P-S-O-N-S.”

My mouth tightening with frustration, I told him, “You’re as bad as Elder.”

Elder, who had been sitting between us, heard our exchange, his head popping up. “I am not either as bad as my Daddy.”

After a moment’s thought, I conceded the point to Elder. After all, it had been quite an insult to my five-year-old.

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