The price of respect…

With the first Saturday off school, my typically polite, jolly young man was clearly showing signs of exhaustion. That… Or hormones…
We had to have words about his language, attitude and lack of respect.
As I asked him what I needed to do in order to gain his respect to ensure he never spoke to me again like that again, peering up through his blond curls and curly black eyelashes, despite being red from tears, his eyes still had a twinkle,
‘You could buy me a dirt bike, Mummy.’
Got to love him for his humour … 
Just got to love him…

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