Raising boys is like raising gremlins—cute and sweet one minute, razor-sharp teeth monsters the next.
In the midst of submitting to Pitch Wars, my gremlins decided to be a wee bit more gremlinly than usual.
As I was spit shining my submission package, my youngest gremlin mentioned he had written an essay in one of his classes, and his teacher was happy the movie Freedom Writers changed his perspective. I stop typing, my head turns sideways, and I ask him to show me. He ran off to grab his Google Chromebook, and I had a million thoughts zigzagging through my mind.
This gremlin is rule-oriented. Everything is black and white. There is no gray area. So what did my gremlin write? Please, please…let it be nice.
He comes back with his laptop and hands it to me.
I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants, grab the gadget, and dive in. The words veer by as I skim to the meat of his essay. And then I see this:
What. The. What?!
I read the last sentence out loud to my husband, and he dips his head to hide his smile.
This isn’t how we roll. My husband and I help people, and we try to instill it into our kids. But, somehow, we missed the mark with the youngest gremlin.
This was me the rest of the evening:
On a brighter note, the eldest gremlin started working this week. Here’s a tidbit from our conversation last night:
Being an adult sounds like fun. Until you go to work.
Welcome to the real world, eldest Gremmy.
<-insert evil laugh here->
I hope everyone else has had a phenomenal week. And if you submitted to Pitch Wars, you, my friend, are a rock star. Go celebrate!