Dixon Details

I'm pretty sure the neighborhood kids think I'm the meanest mom ever.

Take today, for example.

I'll set up the scene for you.

I was making dinner.

The boys were outside.

Dinner was ready, so I called them in.

Reese came.

Slowly.

Gavin came.

Even slower.

The peas were about done and I went inside to dish up.

Five minutes.

NO BOYS.

Eight minutes.

NO BOYS.

Back out I go to find Reese in the garage, putting his bike away.

Gavin.

At the end of the street happily riding his scooter.

Seriously?

So I closed the garage.

And locked the front door.

And closed the curtains.

I told you.
I'M MEAN.

Sure enough.

Right after the prayer.

DING DONG, DING DONG, DING DONG.

It was the neighbor kid.

"Gavin is ready to come have dinner now."

And to that I replied,

"I'm sorry. I am eating right now. Tell Gavin to come back later."

Door closed.

Next.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

On the back door.

I parted the curtain and it was Gav.

"Let me in!"

"Come back later, we're eating."

After dinner I found him shooting hoops with aforementioned neighborhood boy.

"Now you may come in."

And to that he said,

"No. I don't want to."

Then his friend added,

"He's going to come live at my house."

"Okay then. I'll call your teacher and tell her you won't be at school anymore."
(Friend is homeschooled.)

"Fine. I'll come in."

(Thank you, Miss Morris, for being so awesome. You convinced my son to live at home!)

And yes.

He ate dinner.

Gees, I'm not that mean.

Albeit.

Cold dinner. By himself.

I'm so mean.

PS. Today is our Anniversary. Happy Anniversary, indeed.