Mama Don't Play

When the boy was about 4 years old, he would play a little "game."  If you asked him what his daddy did, he would say,
"Daddy plays!"  In his mind, his daddy's job was to play with him.
If you asked him what I did, he would say,
"Mama don't play."  He wasn't saying I never played with him... I did that ALLDAYLONG.  He was actually saying I didn't let him "get away with" bad behavior, but his dad did.  It's no secret I'm the main disciplinarian in the family.  And Dan/Daddy is the party animal. 
We pretty much continue in those roles to this day.  I even forgot he used to say that until one day last week... when it came rushing back to me.

We were driving to a dentist appointment, and when we stopped at a red light, the boy tossed his gum out the window... onto a sidewalk.
I said, "Did you just throw your gum out onto the sidewalk?!?"
"Umm... Yes."   (At least he's honest.)

I broke into a speech about gum on the sidewalk and how I have taught him better and "Have you lost your mind?"
He tried to justify his behavior, and I said, "Get out and pick it up."  (The light was still red.) 
He looked at me like I was crazy.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes, I am."

"Why do I have to pick it up?  No one is gonna step on it."
"That is exactly why you are going to pick it up... Someone is going to step on it.  It's rude to throw gum on the sidewalk."

"We've been sitting here a long time.  What if the light changes?"
"If the light changes, I will drive around the corner and wait for you.  Get out, and pick up the gum."

With a big huffy breath, he grabbed a Kleenex, got out, and picked up the gum.
He said, "I can't believe you made me do that."
At that exact moment, I remembered his funny little phrase from 10 years ago, and I said,
"Mama don't play."

Don't you just love it when your own words come back to haunt you?