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Badass

Badass

I’d love to tell you we’re a normal family but that’d be a lie and I’m teaching the punks that lying is wrong and I don’t want to be a bad example should one of them ever check out my blog. I’ve lost enough credit over the years where they’re concerned.

I’ll be honest and tell you we are nothing short of a hot mess.

Before I ever had actual punks I was a parenting guru. I could spot a horrible parent not doing their job a mile away. Now, I’m trying to determine exactly how inappropriate it is when my 3-year-old makes a reference to his “nuts”(thanks to his 13-year-old big brother who thinks this is hilarious).

When I’m at the grocery store and one of my punks has a Grade A meltdown because I won’t buy candy at the checkout, I smile politely at all the “experts” who pass by, clearly giving me two thumbs down, and wonder what genius thought candy and crap toys were great ideas at the checkout? I mean, seriously.

I’ve resigned myself to the fact I may never win “Mom of the Year” and will probably screw up more often than I’d like. I considered getting one of those cute “In this family” signs to hang up in my kitchen but they don’t really match my decor and I knew my punks would call BS as soon as it was hung. First of all, they don’t like to give second chances; they would prefer to hang each other at the stake for every single crime committed around here, and second of all, they really hate telling each other they’re sorry. So rather than spend money on a sign that doesn’t mean much around here, we got this gem:

Badass

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