As Wally held Benjamin's hand down the stairs of our deck headed to our car, Ben heard the church bells ringing and said, "I'm not going to church." Wally failed to tell me this until after the service was over. When we pulled up to church, from the backseat we heard, "I'm not getting out!" He started banging on the car window and repeating the mantra, "I'm not going to church." We finally got him into church where he was good for the most part except when he told me I wasn't his mother and that he didn't want to see me. Apparently, I am the bad guy.
When I saw the following report on the news, at first, I was comforted thinking "not my kid" which quickly turned into fear as thoughts turned to, "will it get this bad?":
Is this what we have to look forward to?
3 days ago