There are times when I really hate being a parent. Right now is one of them. We went out to eat dinner at my favorite hamburger place, and I enjoyed dinner, but I really wanted to exercise this evening by walking up and down the stairs at a neighboring office building.
Sadly, The Kid managed to screw it up. She misbehaved pretty significantly during an extra-curricular activity today, so we sent her to bed early as a consequence. Since she's in bed (and nowhere mature enough to be left in the house alone, even though we'd be walking only three blocks away) we can't go stair climbing.
Rats. I guess I'll go do some sit-ups on the living room floor, but that's not really what I had in mind.
My father used to say that it was too bad you can't put kids in the deep-freeze when they turn 13, and then thaw 'em out again when they turn 21. I'm wishing that actually worked, though the way I'm feeling, I wouldn't wait until age 13. The Kid would be going in that freezer right now, at age 11.
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