Kids Say the Darndest Things. Again and Again and Again.

Last night, I wrote about the paper Brooklyn wrote at school in which she shared just a little too much information. However, I no longer have to worry about what her teacher thinks of us anymore. Nope, now I can be concerned about what Clay's teacher thinks of us. I mean, I had no illusions of Brooklyn's paper being the last of its kind or anything. But I guess I wasn't expecting another the VERY NEXT DAY! Today, Clay brought home this gem . . .

The first thing I noticed is that I obviously forgot to give Clay his medicine the day he wrote this because his handwriting and spelling are horrible and that is a tell-tale sign that he is off his meds. (Well, that and the fact that he jumps all over the place with the attention span of a rock and the self-control of a monkey in heat.)

But then I actually read the sentences. Or one specific sentence anyway. The police had to inspect my house to look for something.

“Oh hi, Mrs. Reed. You want to have a parent/teacher conference? I swear my house has never been inspected by police. For anything. Honestly. I have no idea how he comes up with these ideas. One time we had to have firemen come to our house when Austin, as a toddler and he locked me outside while his infant sister sat in her car seat on the kitchen table. But that doesn’t make me a bad mom. It was an accident. It happens to everyone. I’m sure it happens to lots of people. I can’t possibly be the only one who this has happened to. But the police have never inspected my house. Ever. Ahem.”


Let’s see if my kids can go the day without writing anything crazy tomorrow.