Nothing says sorry like produce
My oldest son had a rare but wonderful day on Friday. He was so good that I’d begun to wonder if he’d been a victim of the body snatchers or maybe I’d picked up the wrong kid at camp the day before. I love when he has these rare moments and even rarer days. Unfortunately, the next day is usually worse than usual, as if he’d used ever ounce of good he had the day before and didn’t have any left in him. To make it even worse, the day after just happened to be a Saturday my husband had to work, so I was on my own with the three boys. The day was more than a little trying and I was exhausted. By the end of the day my oldest had gone from slightly annoying to full on meltdown mode and I no longer had the patience to deal with him. Thankfully, my husband removed him from the situation and took him to go pick up the take-out we had ordered that evening. During the car ride, they had a little talk about his behavior.
Dad: “You know, you weren’t very nice to Mommy today, right? You need to make it up to her. What do you want to do?”
My oldest: “Ummmm, I get her a ‘mato to say sorry! No, a CUCUMBER!”
When the two returned from picking up the Chinese food, my oldest ran to to me with a bag, gave it to me, hugged me, and said sorry for driving me nuts. When I opened it up, there was my “I’m sorry” cucumber. I was a little confused until my husband told me the story, then I knew my good little boy was still in there.