True Story

Posted this on a friend's site recently and thought I'd share here, too.

One afternoon, I arrived at school to pick up my children. Teacher told me, with an exaggerated sad face only preschool teachers get away with, that my youngest used "hate" when describing his feelings for a classmate. The kid in question was a bully who had it coming to him, but I knew that wasn't the proper "Mommy of the Year" response. I took Teacher's cue and knelt down for an eye-to-eye chat with my child. I told him with a straight face that we don't hate anyone and hoped he would play along.

No such luck.

"We hate Republicans and the Yankees," he said.

So embarrassing.

"We don't hate Republicans," I said, looking up at Teacher with an aren't kids crazy look she wasn't buying. "Grandpa's a Republican and we love him."

Dramatic pause. My child looked at me and I could hide the truth no longer. I sighed and gave up the ghost.

"But, you're right about the Yankees," I said. "We do hate them."