Mean

Why is it that whenever you ask your child to do something that might not be the most enjoyable task, you are mean? My oldest was on a kick for quite a while, calling me a mean mom about 100 times a day. It stopped for a few months and I never realized how great that was until today. Today, I'm mean again. I'm mean because I asked her to bring her dinner dishes from the table to the kitchen sink. I'm mean because I reminded her that her reading homework had to be finished. I'm mean because she had to take a shower. I'm mean because her pillow wasn't fluffy enough. Gosh, I thought I was kind of nice. Well, sometimes, at least. I wonder if my daughter will ever understand what mean actually means! Like, what if I locked her in her room and gave her Brussels sprouts for dinner? Or if I told all her friends that Caty is really not all that pretty. Maybe I could cut her hair while she's sleeping! See, I think those things are mean. Me? I'm not mean. Sure, I can come up with lots of mean ideas, but I would never actually do those things - especially the Brussels sprouts - now that is really, really mean!