The Answer is, You Don’t Get An Answer

kid says mind your own beeswax


Last night I came into my bedroom and was immediately informed that “it” was none of my beeswax. I did not know what “it” was, but was pretty sure that “it” wasn’t good.

However I am a huge fan of natural consequences and so I walked away.

15 minutes later the boy was screaming from the bedroom “Help! Help!” I casually walked over there, because “Boy who cried wolf” and all that, to find him struggling with a handcuff on his ankle.

It was stuck.

He was in a panic. (I was suppressing laughter.)

15 minutes later it was STUCK. Two options, call dad home from work (he works nights) or drive to the fire department.

We picked dad, and of course dad thought it was funny (like mom), but boy not so much.

He was freed, a little brute strength, screaming and a screwdriver.

Not sure that anyone learned their lesson.

Pretty sure I’ll be haunted by my own words again. And I’m pretty sure I will act the same, maybe even with a stronger “boy who cried wolf” attitude.

Never a dull moment.

Don’t even bother, just mind your own beeswax. My own words coming home to haunt.


Last year Isaiah started his own blog, it’s been awesome for him, but my readers love and miss him. So from now on, we will be one again. will now reside at home, with his momma, where she will be minding her own beeswax. 

2 thoughts on “The Answer is, You Don’t Get An Answer

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