“NO! Nathan, get down from there!” I said as I grabbed Nathan as he stood on top of a Rubbermaid tub, mangling his window blinds in an attempt to look out the window. “You know better!” I said. As I set him down on the floor, he put his little hand on my shoulder and patted me.
“Everything’s ok, Mommy,” he said soothingly.
“Oh, Nathan,” I replied. “You know, insanity really is hereditary.”
“Yep,” he said matter-of-factly.
“You get it from your kids.”
“Yep,” he responded. After a brief hesitation, he smiled and said, “Me too, Mommy.”
No kidding, son. No kidding.