Yesterday Ethan overheard a PRIVATE conversation I was having with Gabby in which I lovingly told her she was being a stinky turd...
...Face. OK! I called her a stinky turd FACE!
Ethan didn't like that. At all.
"How DARE you call my sister a stinky turd face! THAT'S THE WORST THING YOU COULD EVER SAY TO HER!!"
(I'll admit I probably went to far by adding "face" at the end, but I've never claimed to be a "perfect" mother.)
"If you weren't my mom, I'd punch you SO HARD RIGHT NOW!"
He walked out of the room and came back with 2 pieces of paper. He informed me he'd written out a contract and I had to sign it if I wanted him to stop being pissed.
Behold "The Contracked".
After much laughter and many important questions, such as "well, what am I supposed to call her when she's acting like a turdface?" I signed the "contracked". I am no longer ALOUD to call Gabby a "tirdface". Apparently, I'm also not ALOUD to call her "poopface" "crapface" or "freek" (None of which I've ever called her, but all of which Ethan felt necessary to include... JUST INCASE.)
Lucky for me, I'm totally ALOUD to call her "brat" "tinkybutt" "tinkerbutt" and "spoiled". (Although, I'm NOT ALOUD to call her spoiled and brat at the same time.)
Dude. I got served contracked.







That's a sweet contrack. heh. I wonder if he'll remember that when she's like 8 and bugging the hell out of him.