An Issued Apology

I must apologize for having to be your mother. I am sorry that I must beckon you to emerge from your covers on cold snowy mornings and make you eat more than a handful of Frosted Mini Wheats for breakfast. I regret to have to make you wear your coat, shoes tied, and pants,minus holes in the knees, to school. It is a bit embarrassing to have your mom as your fashion consultant. Twinkies, Cheetos, and pizza lunchables are all the rage, I understand, and all you get is a measly peanut butter sandwich, yogurt and pretzels. I regret that you have to be run around by me to scouts, basketball, and school activities with leaving you little time to play with your Webkins. It must be excruciating to have to do your homework before you indulge in the pleasures of after school: friends, T.V., computer, and snow fort building. It pains me to have to be the mom and ban you from these things when your behavior is not to my liking . I hate to have to tell you to vanquish your temper or lower your jovial voice so your sister can continue napping. I regret that I have to stand as referee between you and your sister and not let the living room turn into the WWF. I would much rather grow with you, spend hours adoring you, and allow you, and me, to eat nachos for dinner every night. The only thing is that I am trusted to be your mother and that is what I'll be, much to both of our great disappointment. That is because I like you. I like that you remember funny lines from the old movies Dad and I make you watch. I love that you like the Monkees a group fifty years before your time. As I watch you brother Anna, you present me with gratitude. Just Remember, as you get older I may not be as cool, my ideas for desserts for the Blue and Gold Banquet a bit lame, and not understand who you are trying to become but, I am you mother and always will be.