When Laney is seeking therapy as an adult for the various ways I screwed up her childhood, number one on the list will be how I was always rushing her. The thing I say the most to her is probably "I love you." But running a close second is "Come ON, Laney, we're LATE!!!!"
So, yesterday, we had to do this meeting at her summer camp which didn't get out until a little after 8:00. And then there was the long drive home. And Laney's feet were filthy, which meant she'd have to take a bath. And the dog needed to get out. In short, there were a series of chores to accomplish before Laney could go to bed, all of which I wanted done apace. So, from the moment we got home I was nagging at Laney to hurry up and get out of the car and NO you don't need to take all your toys and stop lying on the dog it's time to get upstairs and get ready for bed and no of course you can't play on the computer it's 8:30.
All of which culminated in this exchange:
Me [standing in the bathroom over the tub]: Laney, if you don't get in here and get in this tub, I'm going to snap.
Me: [striding forcefully down the hall towards her room]: Laney... WHAT are you doing?
Laney: [standing in her bedroom with her pants off and her shirt half over her head] Come on, Woman. Are you really going to scold me for taking my clothes off?
She's so got my number.