One of the trickest things I find about parenting is that no matter how hard I try to teach my children what is right, there is always someone who is better and quicker at teaching them something wrong.
The other night the Tank was impatiently waiting for me to frost his Grandpa's birthday cake. He was hovering over the cake like a vulture waiting to swoop in for the kill.
"Back away from the cake," I pleaded with the Tank as he poked wholes into its side.
"No, I want to frost it!" replied the Tank as he made a second pass around the perimeter of the cake.
"Back away from cake!" I commanded. "You need to be patient, we have to wait for it to cool."
The Tank took his eyes off his prey momentarily to look at me and whispered, "I'm gonna kick your ass."
"What did you say?" I asked genuinely shocked. Neither myself or my husband would ever sputter such harsh words.
Before he could even answer me, the Tank retreated to the naughty corner.
I approached him and asked again, just encase I misheard him, "What did you say?"
The Tank timidly replied, "I said I'm going to kick your ass if you don't let me frost the cake."
Nope. I had heard correctly. All I could think was: where would he learn such words; and if there is going to be an ass kicking around here, I'll be giving it!
I collected my cool and reminded the Tank about manners. I told him that when he was ready to apologize to me that he could come out of the corner.
Just as I turned to walk away the tank sweetly called my name, "Mommy."
"Yes, is there something you would like to say to me?" I asked.
"I'm sorry for saying that I was gonna kick your ass," whispered the Tank.
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