Letter from my son.

Oh, the joys of being a parent. The other day I sent Austin, my oldest, to his room to think about why hitting his sister in the back was a bad idea. He was very upset with me, but he was able to cool down. He came back out and started hitting his sister in the back again. I then sent him to his room one last time and told him that he could no longer play the video game that was making him so mad. I wonder where he gets that from? Lindsay, I would guess. I normally try to go in and talk to the child that hates me at the time. I find they are much less likely to loathe you when you are talking to them. He was sitting on his bed and had been playing with his crayons. He was still upset with me. Fast-forward two days, I was helping him get ready for church on Sunday and I found a letter that was addressed to me sitting in his clothing. It said, and I quote: " Dear Dad, I'v runed away because you guys are mean. So there. I hate you guys." I was so shocked! It was very clear that he is a better speller than I am, and he has better penmanship. I will keep that little crayon note with me for as long as I live. Or until Lindsay loses my wallet again. Oh, to be a parent.