(Real quick, while we wait on City Girl to get in from HER jury duty experience and lay it out for us.)
Have I mentioned that I AM available for parenting lessons? Given that I'm one down and two to go, and haven't killed one yet (I have an entire class on why you MEASURE the cold medicine as opposed to handing over the bottle with the instruction to "Take a swig." If you do that and then go out of town and the child ends up at the doctor and the doctor asks about the dosage, the child will faithfully repeat your orders.)
For Christmas this year, my oldest child gave me...and I ask you, just HOW DAMN COOL IS THIS?...pearls and a case of beer huggers with my name on them. Pearls. Lovely classic pearls. And an entire CASE of beer huggers, tastefully monogrammed in the Southern tradition. Top that.
Then last night? At the various Super Bowl celebrations this family attended? The oldest child was at a classic bar in an old downtown building with her friends. The middle child stayed home with frozen pizza and talked to her buddies on MySpace (a restricted site, I might add), and the little kid went to my guys' party with us.
The bets come in? My seven-year-old won the first quarter bet at the party we were at. My oldest child won the second and third quarter bets at her celebration. They're on the phone to each other, high-fiving over the air waves and congratulating each other. The "experts" who had planned out their strategies were...trying not to look mortified.
They look good and they play good...wasn't that in the parenting book?