If you’re a parent, odds are you’ve heard the word mine far too often.
And you know, after 7 years of being a mom, I’m doing something drastic. I’m being selfish.
Last week, I was making tacos for the Little Kidlet and I. Some of them were a little burnt, while others were perfectly fried. In a moment of selfishness, I gave myself the perfect ones, and the burnt ones to LK. He didn’t care.
Sunday morning I was making hash browns for the Little Kidlet and I, and I kept the perfectly golden part for myself. And you know what? He didn’t care.
Knowing that is pretty liberating, because we’re sort of told that you have to give your kids the best, that it’s your duty to suck it up and take the small piece of cake, the burnt taco, or the slightly mushy hash browns. While I’m certainly not going to make a habit out of taking the primo ones, but once in awhile, I’m going to take what I want- no regrets. Because I deserve it.
By the way, the Reese’s Pieces in the freezer? Mine. All mine. Hands off!