I've more or less resigned myself to a complete lack of appreciation from my children. But Cubby has really surpassed himself this time with his breathtaking disregard for his mother's toils. Or even existence.
He came home yesterday with a little "All About Me" book he had made at school. It was cute. It was mostly pretty standard fill-in stuff, "I am ___ years old." "I have ___ hair." And so on.
This page made me very proud:
I knew our dance music would leave lasting memories*.
Then I turned the page . . .
One, two, three, four . . . something is missing here.
Upon inquiry, Cubby identified the family members, from left to right, as Daddy, Cubby, Jack, and Charlie.
Yes. He didn't put me in there, AS PART OF THE FAMILY. Seriously, child?
Unbelievable. (But, luckily for him, still funny to me.)
* In case you were wondering, as I was, what that book title might be, it's Lassie, a book I can't stand but that the MiL read to him and that apparently also made a lasting impression. Appropriate, considering our dogs, no?