feisty doesn't fall far from the tree

Rumor has it that I was on the feisty side growing up. I cannot confirm or deny this.

However, I can tell you that on one particular Care Bear birthday party, my frustrated mom had to pull me aside for being bossy. In my defense, I exclaimed, "I've been waiting all year to boss all my friends around!"

Nice.

My poor mom.

Now, are there times when my feistiness has been useful? Sure. Am I regretful by my less than stellar uses of it? You bet. Like Cher sings, "If I could turn back time"....

But I can't.

Instead, payback has come in the form of our middle son, Charlie.

99% of the time he's as sweet as sugar, but when he's on fire, you better move out of his path. He's got spunk.

It is not beyond this little guy to threaten, "Mommy, you won't be my friend anymore" or "Mom, that's so inappropriate!" when I put him in time out. His latest is that I won't be invited to his birthday party. He doesn't even turn 5 until this summer.

And sometimes, words don't say enough. My friend Bonnie always loved this picture of me at my parent's house. She said it summed me up perfectly...



Doesn't it say it all? All the other girls had labor intensive, perfectly braided pigtails and I look like a complete mess since I insisted on doing my own hair all by myself.

And here's my guy...



Watch out people. I tell you, it is in the genes.