Chooch was taking a bath after a long day of running amok in the park and pigging out on pie. I was trying to coax him into speeding it up because I had a headache from maybe drinking too much wine and possibly eating too much pie.
“Hurry up, I want to go lay down,” I said.
“Just go lay down then. I’m not done playing in here,” Chooch countered.
“What kind of mother would I be if I just left you in the bath tub with no supervision?”
With no hesitation, Chooch answered, “A mother without a headache.”
Touché, young one.