I am so screwed.

Just now, I had to read boy the riot act about acting up. He'd taken a small toy animal and was pounding on the coffee table repeatedly, despite my "No"s. (He does these things when I'm on the phone because he knows my attention is divided. Little schemer.)

I pulled him onto my lap for a stern talk. After a lengthy discussion, he finally showed some remorse, then managed a "Sorry, mom." Immediately after that, he patted my Old Navy t-shirt and said, "Nice shirt, mom." And followed THAT up with "Hair pretty."

Good Lord.