If I told you, I would have to kill you.

We all know those moms who, while in the middle of a conversation with someone else, will rush up to you and pull out their cameras and show you pictures of little Annie doing her first Big Potty ALL BY HERSELF! Um. Ok. I just wish they had this contraption when I was potty training my kids. See photo.

I am not one of those mothers that talks incessantly about her kids. Mostly because while I am great at parenting, I know I am not Supermom. I also don’t want to shed light on the fact that I can barely keep my own life in order, much less my kids. I’m a hot mess.

For instance; when Ike was packing his room to go away to the NAVY I gave him all the photos I took of him over the last 19 years. There was half a shoe box.
Also, one of my favorite lines as a mom is: ‘There are few joys in parenting. You will not rob me of even one. So put your shit on, and go sing your fucking ass off and smile while you do it, BECAUSE I EARNED THIS!’ At least in my head I say that. And for those of you who know me: shut up. I did not say that out loud. Ok. Maybe once during a temper tantrum.

So when I brag about my kids, it’s a big deal. This brings me to Ike. Here’s a little background.

IKE stands for I know everything. He's my 20 year old son, who lived at home until he joined the NAVY and they kicked his ASS. IKE has huge entitlement issues. He is good looking, very smart, and was in college studying some shit, but because of no jobs available ANYWHERE he realized he most likely won’t get hired, and so now he has some job in the NAVY that he never talks about because I don't have the clearance. Honorable, but for crying out loud, this kid couldn’t find his ass with both hands in a closet with the light on. He is also not a joiner. Which is weird because he joined the NAVY. This is a him before the NAVY.

Having said that, Ike called me a couple of days ago. He was busting he was so excited. Here’s the conversation:

Ike: I won a trophy!
Me: You did? For what?
Ike: I can’t tell you.
Me: Why not?
Ike: Because then I would have to kill you.
Me: What does the trophy look like? Can you send me a picture?
Ike: No. But it has a toilet on it.
Me: What does the toilet stand for? That you've been potty trained?
Ike: Mom. Please. I can’t tell you. Also, I get a plaque.
Me: Oh! Can I see that?
Ike: No. Also I get to be honored in a ceremony.
Me: I see. When is this ceremony?
Ike: Seriously mom? Do you even understand the meaning of top secret?

He’s such an ass.

So I searched for a photo of a toilet trophy but since I don't know what his supposed trophy looks like, I am going to guess.

And all I can think of is how proud he is with his toilet trophy that I can never see and how I've been robbed of one of my joys. I mean, I spent years in blood sweat and tears to have him become this super hero and now...Now all I get is "if I tell you I'll have to kill you."

Whatever NAVY. If I weren't so proud of him we would have a problem.

This is him after the NAVY made a man out of him. And it's the best I can do for you because I don't want to die. And yes. He is one of those guys that takes pics of himself in the mirror. He's 20. Enough said.

Warrior on Son. Thanks for having our backs.