Actually being a parent is full of the awesome. You always have someone to get you a soda from the fridge or change the channel for you when you can't find the remote.
The act of parenting and making sure your spawn doesn't grow up to be a complete douche canoe is the hard part. Over the past six years I have learned that not everything is black and white. There is a whole lotta fucking grey.
During a recent homework assignment we discovered that somebody's number twos looked like sea horses. No big deal. It could happen to anybody. We told "somebody" that he could not watch TV until he made five decent twos. Not great twos. Decent.
Fast forward a couple of weeks. My husband was under the impression we had a burglar and was investigating in "somebody's" room while I snored my lazy ass off. During the investigation he discovered this
Why yes! That is a wall in my son's bedroom covered in over 100 twos. Thanks for asking.
Some of them were pretty damn good. Here is where the grey area comes into play. Sure he wrote on his wall in orange and purple crayon, but at least he was practicing writing his numbers.
Here is my favorite part
Lucky for my kid I am as big of a smart ass as he is and chose to see the humor in it.
