I was talking with a friend of mine about the new place when it was determined that I am the worst mother ever:
M: What do the boys think about it? . . . . New schools?Tonight I'm being taken out. To dinner, I assume, but it hasn't been explicitly stated, so who knows? I like a little mystery.
Me: Same schools, which was a non-negotiable point when I was looking for a house.
The boys are pretty excited, excepting the fact that Ethan is having a teenage moment because I made him (Made him! The Audacity of me!) do his chore of taking the trash out (all of it, even!) last night.
M: How dare you! Worst mother ever! This is how it all starts. Trash is just a gateway chore. Next, you'll expect him to do his homework. Eventually, you know, he'll end up with a job. And it all begins with taking out the trash...
Me: It's a tragedy, for certain.
Before you know it, conditions will be so onerous that he will have to move out while he still knows everything.
