Looking back, I don't know if it was the raging pregnant lady hormones or the nausea or the continual "Hmph!" and "Urghh!" sounds coming my way that did it. It started out like any other Sunday morning. I woke up and thought, "Gasp, Carter has to give a talk today in church, and he hasn't even started on it, and church starts in less than an hour!" I rushed out, frantically looking for the little red paper with his topic for his talk. "Carter! You have a talk to write, and there's not very much time, and you're not even ready for church!" Well, I finally found the paper, helped him find some resources, and left him to write his talk. (We make our kids write their own talks, or at least help write the talks if they are too little.) By this time, I was feeling very sick because I had hurried around so much and hadn't eaten breakfast yet. As I was eating, I kept trying to help him come up with ideas, give him suggestions, etc., trying to get him to start writing his talk. He would not write anything down, kept saying that my ideas were dumb, and several times a minute said a loud "Hmph!" or ""Urgh!" at me. After half an hour of this, I could not take it anymore. My anxiety was high. I was sick. I was hormonal. And he just kept making those irritating noises at me. So I did it. I threw three lemons at him. We had waited too long to pick these lemons, so they were a bit soft. And they spattered everywhere. And I'm not a very good aim. I think only one of them hit him. (Don't worry, it didn't hurt him.) He looked completely shocked. You know, I'm not usually a maniacal lemon-thrower. Anyway, Bill finally came out and took over. I think he sent me to my room. Carter wrote his talk in five minutes, and I think it went well. There's even one lemon left. Maybe I'll make Carter a glass of lemonade tomorrow after school.
Unless he "Hmph"s at me.
Like Bill says, "When Mama gives you lemons....