When I am finally debilitated by my multiple sclerosis, wearing a diaper and being pushed around in a wheelchair, I'm going to remind Darby of the comment she made to me today.
"Mom, that dinner was disgusting. And so are you."
For real? That hardly felt necessary.
And THAT is why I am going to lay the guilt on her as thick as I can. I'll follow that story up with the one about the 71 hours of labor that I suffered to bring her into this world. Then I might fall out of my wheelchair and fake my death for a few days, just to drive the point home.
I'm going to title my parenting manual, "Love and Logic? That's Crap." What do you think?
(for the record, i'll probably actually just cry about it later. please tell me your kids are mean to you, too!)