I’m not being pessimistic. Really. I can’t say with certainty that my progeny won’t end up in jail, but I certainly am not anticipating it. Or assuming it. Or worrying about it. Much. One day at a time. Everydangday.
Last night, though, as I tried yet again to tie Lo’s Tae Kwon Do belt…
(Lemmejustsay: Unsuccessfully. Lo is getting a reputation as the Karate-Kid-With-Belt-That-Comes-Undone-in-the-Middle-of-Class. Seriously. YouTube is not doing me any good in this department. And, also, I’ve figured out why I can’t teach my kids to tie their shoes. Apparently I’m challenged.)
…he leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. Sweetest kiss ever.
He must have read the surprise in my eyes, because he said, “Dat’s so dat when I do [go] to jail you bemember to tum and det me and tell them, “You let my tid outta dere!”
So I’m starting a savings account just in case, because, in the years to come, I’d hate to think of him sitting in a cell regretting the sweetest kiss he ever gave me.