Tara Coleman
Well, after that action-packed night at my mom’s, we ended up at the hospital because my naughty son decided to iron his clothes and ended up burning his left arm.
“Honey, you promised me that you wouldn’t take matters into your own hands. I only let you wash yourself because you said you are a big boy now and you can wash yourself, which is clear to me that you aren't as grown up as I thought; you will go back to being washed, and that’s final.” I ordered, and he nodded at me.
“I am sorry, Mommy,” he apologized, and I hugged him. I never wanted to lash at him, but I couldn’t imagine something happening to him.
“It is okay, baby; I will go check with the doctors to see if your discharge papers are ready so we can head back home. Unless you want to spend the night here, do
