Eventually Dr Phil will call for me to be on his show

All Christmas Eve day I repeatedly told The Bandit to go pick up his room.  I was repeatedly ignored.

“Go clean up your room.”

Nothing.

Repeat.

Finally I told him, “If I was Santa, I wouldn’t bring you anymore toys because obviously you don’t have enough room for the old toys.”

I swear to God the little creep looked at me and said, “Well if YOU were Santa, I’d be good every day.”

What do you say to that?  I stood there like a guppy, my mouth opening and closing, opening and closing.  I so desperately wanted to form the words.  Of course, if I did, the parenting police would show up at my door and my Mommy card would me summarily revoked.

I finally had to walk away or risk irreparable damage.