My son the alien

So I had this argument with my son earlier.

Me: I’m actually only in here because I forgot something I needed and I’m going to go clean the bathroom. (I had gone in the kitchen to fetch a sponge so I could scrub the baseboards in the bathroom because every single room except Sonthing’s bedroom is getting a serious deep clean today)

Son: You can still get me a piece of toast with butter and honey on it though. That’s your job cuz you’re my MOM.

Me: You can do it yourself, kid.

Son: I CAN NOT!!

Me: Yes you can. You’re twelve, not two. You’ve been making your own toast since you were 5.

Son: Nuh uh! I’m not twelve and YOU CAN’T PROVE IT! I’m pretty 100% sure you can’t prove that I am twelve. YOU DON”T KNOW!!!

Me: o.O Seriously? I was there when you were born.


Me: (I am seriously trying not to laugh at this point) Yes, I was.

Son: NUN UH! I’m an alien so you couldn’t have been there when I was born. Duuuuh!

Me: Ooook then.

So there it is. Proof that I did not, in fact, give birth to a live human being 12 years ago OR possibly that my son was switched with an alien creature.


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