The other day, when one of my kids said I "need to lose weight" (see post: HERE), I forgot to mention the good part of the story. It slipped my mind until now . . . I was only focused on the insult.
Just moments after those rude words from a young, inexperienced child were uttered, the other more learned and wise children came quickly to my defense, and began teaching the impolite child a lesson. (With words, not force.)
As I jogged up ahead of all the kids on their bikes -- with tears streaming down my forlorn face -- the older kids maneuvered like a pack of wolves, encircling the young child, and fiercely growling out their tutorial . . .
"How could you say that to mom?"
"You never be rude to mom!"
"You don't ever call someone fat, especially Mom!"
"You better say you are sorry!"
"Don't ever be so mean!"
"Never say that again!"
The young fast-pedaling child seemed to absorb his lesson taught by his elders on "big bikes". After being reprimanded by his senior siblings, his shoulders shrunk, defeated, and well-taught.
Lesson learned. Thanks, older children. (Don't worry, we loved on young child later.)
After completing the lecture, my first-born came up next to me and said, "Mom, you don't even need to workout if you don't want to, you look great."
The corners of my mouth turned up just a bit, despite my tears.
Ahhhh . . . yes. I have trained the old ones well. Very well, indeed.
Don't mess with me. My kids have my back.
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