I bite my tongue. I bite my tongue because I am not a perfect mother by any stretch of the imagination, but also because I believe the boys are better off being parented by two people of differing thoughts than by one.
Being a nice day, the boys are outside with their daddy while he cleans the vehicles and I am inside cleaning up the house and Charlie is taking a nap. We have a pile of branches and sticks in the back. Louie and Benny are "playing" with them. This makes me nervous. I am not going to say anything because...they're boys. And boys play with dangerous items like sticks. Big, poky ones that could go into someone's eye.
I don't want the boys to grow up to be afraid of the world around them, so I bite my tongue. I know that their daddy has the situation under control and I do not need to butt in.
Ohhh, boy. That's a big branch...please put it down!...and Kevin jumps in to stop the insanity. Thank you.
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