When you grow up...

This is a blanket letter to my children all of them.

I hope they take this as seriously as it is meant....

Dear Children:

When you grow up I hope at least once a week you have to question your children if they were raised in a barn. While we both know there is no livestock in our house, I also remember that each of your rooms had carpet on the floor. Can you please identify the last time you saw it?

When you grow up I hope that you field phone calls discussing with you the way your child is behaving, that your son or daughter swings from the rafters and is defiant. I hope your child makes you question passing on your DNA. Yep, paybacks suck.

When you grow up I hope you make at least one meal that causes a head to be cocked to the side, as if a loud pitched sound is being played in their head. I hope you have spent more than 30 minutes in the kitchen just to hear "Can I just have cereal?"

When you grow up I hope your Saturdays are spent at the baseball field, your weeknights are spent driving your mini van that should have a meter inside because welcome to our world. (Not that baseball and chorus is not fun, but there are times it is also WORK)

When you grow up I hope your child screams at you that you are the meanest parent in the world, because if that happens I will know I have done my job right.

See, I am not wishing you anymore than I have been given. I do hope you have a very happy life and I am sure each of my grandchildren will be as perfect as my children are to their grandparents.

I also know that halos and horns go hand in hand..

you can not fool me.

Just remember this kids, someday remember this.