There comes a time in everyone's life when we marture. Well, almost everyone. I think I'm a pretty mature person but sometimes I find myself reverting back to to grade-school comments that I can't stop myself from thinking but most of the time, I can stop from saying them. Most of the time. Peyton really tested my self control the other day and I failed miserably. It is one of the few times that I can say I really was not acting my age, but it felt sooo good to let the comment slip out.
Cleaning their bedroom is something our children constantly argue about. I wish I could say that the arguments revolve around who gets to pick everything up because they are so excited to help, but it is about who has to actually exert some energy in cleaning up after themselves.
I had told Peyton that he needed to clean up his mess and he ran away from me. While he was running for his life down the hall - like if he ran fast enough he wouldn't have to clean - he turned around and yelled over his shoulder, "YOU'RE RUINING MY LIFE!!"
I believe in karma. And what happened next is a prime example of it. When he turned his head back around after yelling at me, he ran straight into the bathroom door frame. He hit his cheek so hard that it knocked him down and a bruise started blooming on his cheek bone. I was 15 feet away from him in the kitchen and I started going towards him to check on him when he had the audacity to tell me to stop hurting him.
I hadn't even been near him, I didn't strap that jetpack to his rear that sent him flying down the hall and I most certainly didn't have the time to get in front of him, move the door frame and set it right in front of his face. When he said that, I stopped walking towards him and thought of that saying, 'karma is a ____'. And the first thing that popped out of my mouth, I just couldn't control. I acted like a small child and said, "I guess that is what you get for being ugly to your mommy."
Peyton was just fine, nothing broken, it just looked like he had a little purple spot on his cheek for a couple of days and he was back to wreaking havoc on the house about 3.48 seconds after this was over.
Now, by no means am I proud of myself for that little comment. But I can't deny that it felt good. Peyton can be quite the little turkey sometimes but usually when he is in his prime and I am ready to string him up by his toes, he does something cute and endearing and I end up forgiving him. Although, I have to admit, I had a moment of speakers remorse. Which lasted all of a few minutes before he grabbed a whole package of hotdogs out of the fridge and went to town. Then I wasn't as sad and ashamed that I had said it.
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