False Threats and Empty Promises

Sunday morning, I was fixing eight-year-old Grumpy's hair for church. I bent down (very little these days) to sniff his hair. I wrinkled my nose and scrunched up my face. "I'm not sure if that is a clean smell or not," I said doubtfully.

His face twisted into a small smile that he tried to hide and he assured me he washed it. I narrowed my eyes and slowly said, "Alright." Then a little imp sat on my shoulder and I got a devlish look in my eyes.

I said, "If you don't wash your hair, I'm going to come in there and wash it for you, naked butt and all."

I think he swallowed his tongue.

False threats and empty promises. I'm just full of them.

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Dignified Woman

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