It took a solid couple of hours of Alex being home before I was within inches of wringing his neck. Every single thing I said on Sunday was met with back talk. Everything. I thought I was being sensitive to it, but Claire noticed it too.
Perfect example was when we were at the beach with Claire et al and I told him to stay in shallower water. I told him this twice. And the third time he went in deeper water, I told him to get out of the lake. He started whining that it wasn't fair and he wasn't going to go in the deep water anymore and that it's fun in the deeper water and blah blah blah you ruin everything Mom. As I was dragging his sassy ass to the beach, I explained that I already given him two chances and he didn't listen so that was that. And with that he stopped dead in his tracks, looked up and me and said, "I mean...I think people should get like 14 chances."
He made up for it at bedtime of course. We were snuggled up in his room and I told him I was happy he was home. "I'm happy too Mom. I wuv ya Mom."
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