My way: “(Insert kid name), I understand you are upset about not getting what you want but you need to …”
His way: “No.”
My way: Awake, worried about something involving the kids.
His way: Asleep, after counseling me through it, knowing it will all be ok.
My way: “How are we going to get it all finished?!”
His way: “Done.”
My way: “Use your wrestling take-down move on the kid who shoved you.”
His way: “Use your take down move and punch him until your arms are tired.”
My way: “Kids, you need to not yell in the car.”
His way: “Zip it.”
My way: “Let me see your boo-boo. I’ll kiss it and make it better.”
His way: “You’re alright.”
My way: “Eat three more bites of peas and then you can be excused.”
His way: “Finish your peas.”
My way: “Sorry, momma can’t play right now.”
His way, even if he just sat down after cutting the grass: “Sure. Let’s go.”
My way: “I don’t understand that homework question. Ask daddy.”
His way: “Let’s work through this together.”
We wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re our favorite, Andrew. Happy Father’s Day.
Are You Zhazha? 
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