Those are my boys.
Chips off the old block.
My mother and father swear Frack is exactly how I was in my younger years.
My behavior stunk. I lived 85% of my life in my room from ages 3-5.
And, lately, so does Frack.
I haven’t posted this information yet–although it has been consuming my every thought and action.
I am working on him. Molding him to be a better Frack.
And Frick can be quite the character as he is testing our boundaries (see THIS POST) as well.
Nini reminded me of a story from my childhood along these lines.
I was about 4 and having a tough time at the dinner table.
In other words, I was mouthing off and acting up.
My dad had enough of my sassy attitude.
He slammed his fist down on the table making the plates and silverware dance around.
He stated clearly through his clenched teeth…
“Dammit, Mandy!! I married one. I am NOT gonna raise one!!!”
I started crying.
My brother looked like a deer stuck in headlights.
And my mom rolled on the floor laughing until she was crying.
*By the way, this is my 300th post. Yeehaw!*