Husband as he is teasing my oldest son while we are sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee: This is my classroom. Keep your voice down. If you don’t like it, go to the office and sit on the bench and cry. Mwahahaha…*sips coffee*
My son: Fine, where’s the office? *extreme eyeroll*
Me: Right here on this side of the table. *pats the side of the table I’m sitting on*
My son: I’m sitting on the same side of the table as you. DUH.
Me: See, then it’s all good. So don’t listen to him. *points to husband* He…is just the teacher. Me, I’m the principal. And this *sweeps arms around* is my office.
Husband: If that’s what makes you feel good about yourself. *snorts*
Me: You just can’t escape it. The Wanna-Be King vs. The Reigning Queen Supreme or Teacher vs. Principal. Face it. I’m the boss. And you…aren’t.
Him: Shut up and go blog.
Me: Exactly. *grabs laptop and types before conversation is forgotten because THAT is how I roll*