I'm In The Market for A Deep Hole In The Ground

And to think just a couple of weeks back I was all happy because my son had reached the complete sentence stage of toddlerhood. Yeah, that's me, the red-faced mom hiding over here in the corner.

You see, there's a certain mom in the parent-child class that Liam and I attend. I don't get along with her for a variety of reasons. Her daughter, hhmmm, I'll call her Rosie, is a sweetheart. Rosie's mom, however, sets my teeth on edge, and I've begun talking, well, whining, really, about her so much that last week Kevin was concerned I might need therapy if Rosie and Liam end up in the same class next year.

Apparently small ears have picked up on my whining, for after Rosie and her mom arrived at school this morning, Liam ran up to the teacher and announced in his best outside voice, "My Mommy doesn't like Rosie's mommy." And then he ran off to play.

Fortunately, Rosie's mom didn't actually hear the comment, and I'm not all sure how that small miracle occurred since Liam's outside voice is audible in Center City. During outside play time, Liam's teacher beckoned to me. She was quite civil about the whole affair, saying that children will repeat what they hear, and perhaps Kevin and I should discontinue adult conversations when children are nearby. She also mentioned that each of her kids had done something similar at about the same age, so clearly I'm not the first parent to be this embarassed.

Still, if y'all will excuse me, I'm going off to search for large crevasse in which to hide. I'm considering staying there until the end of the school year.