Last night at bedtime I realized the Boy hadn't done something I'd asked him to do, so I told him to take care of it. His reply was, "I hate you."
To which I promptly replied, "Good! It means I'm doing my job."
I headed downstairs and informed my Partner in Crime, (formerly known as the Hubby), that the Boy said he hated me.
He replied, "Good! That means you're doing your job."
It's the little things that mean so much, isn't it?
Just like Condi Rice...job confirmation with a bunch of ill will. Congratuations!
Posted by: Cathy | January 26, 2005 at 10:29 PM