I have so many profound conversations with my kids that I am often touched by what insightful human beings they are. Tonight laying in bed with Wil, he asks me, "Mom, what does regret mean?"
I am swelling with pride thinking he has some great insight into something gone wrong in his life or at the very least is grasping this difficult concept. I simply said, "regret is when you feel sorry that you did something."
"well then," says Wil," if it was possible for me to print out the money from my webkinz game onto real paper, I would almost have 30,000 dollars and YOU are going to regret grounding me from screens this week cause I'm not going to give you any."
Spirit crushed. Is my life like a comic strip or what?
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