The reason the phrase SHAM paralyzes me with fear is because I feel I'm not cut our for it, I can't live up to the title. Here are examples from the last week that support my hypothesis:
* Day one: Justin tumbles down the stairs outside (from three stairs up) scratching up his face, side, elbow and knee.
* Day two: I make myself the black sheep of the SHAM kindergarten mom club by calling out another kid. He was spinning around like a total moron and slammed into Justin. Justin apologized to him and I piped in, "Don't you dare apologize, you did nothing wrong. You're following the rules." Insert evil SHAM glares here.
*Day three: My son dropping his first F-bomb and me trying to hold a straight face while I scold him and tell him that is the ultimate of all "grown-up words" and he's never allowed to say it again.
*Day four: Barely holding my composure when my favorite wine glass is shattered.
*Day five: Cursing the neighborhood kid who showed up at my door at 8:30 am requesting a ride because his mom is too liquored up on Vodka. Then having to pick up said kid from school while both parents are clearly home probably too busy with an afternoon freak session to pick up their own kid from school. Sure I don't mind, I'll just get the word TAXI tattooed on my damned forehead!
I guess looking back on it, it wasn't too bad of a week. It could be worse, I could be working. And hey, nobody died...at least not yet!