How Did My Kids Get To Be So Mean?

When I walk into my kitchen and see this

it means something special is about to happen. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, I usually let out a little shout of glee. I immediately turn to the TV and begin searching for whatever big game or good movie might be on that night. (Tonight it's the NBA Draft where my Hoosiers have shown up big time...shout out to Oladipo and Zeller representing Hoosier Nation as top-five picks.)

See, when I see two sticks of butter sitting on my kitchen counter, it means my son is going to bake chocolate chip cookies for us. And not just any chocolate chip cookies, but the most delicious chocolate chip cookies ever. I have no idea where he learned how to do this or who he inherited the baking gene from, but I don't really care. I get cookies!!!!

"You don't get any," my son tells me. Huh? What is he talking about?
"Look, mom. You're the one trying to eat better. No cookies."

How did he get to be so mean?

So now I'm sulking trying to figure out how to justify eating a few cookies without losing esteem in my son's eyes. Yeah. I can't. Which is exactly why I told my kids about this change in diet. I knew they would hold me accountable. And this child don't play.

Fine. No cookies. If you need me, I'll be over in the corner sulking.

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