So the kids’ jackets and backpacks are lying in heaps on the floor by the coat rack. I asked them to clean them up:
“Come one guys, how often do I have to ask you to clean this stuff up?”
As I finished my question I walked around the corner and there, on the floor, is my racquetball bag. Its been there since Monday.
The kids are kind of looking at me. So I reached down, picked up the bag and told them:
“Even I’m guilty of it sometimes. But I’m the Dad and I’m allowed to be guilty.”
I’m sure they noted the distinction.