Yesterday I flipped on the television to watch a baseball game, something I try to make an effort to do since DirecTv convinced me to shell out my hard-earned money for the MLB "Season Pass" this year.
"NO!" shrieked my 4-year-old son. "You watch this dumb show too much!"
I shot him a look and then calmly changed the channel to the brain-rotting entertainment of his choice (Clifford the Big Red Dog). Then I left the room.
From my bedroom I could hear my husband informing the evil boy-child, "You hurt your mother's feelings. You'd better go after her and do something to make up." Soon I heard the patter of demon feet as the boy came into the bedroom to find me.
He put out his square lip and said "I'm sorry, Mommy."
"What are you sorry for?" I asked (he is well-known to be 'sorry' for any and everything if it means peace in the household).
"I'm sorry your show is dumb," he answered without hesitation.