I am so sorry, my darling children, that I am a wretch of a mother.
I am mean, and horrible, and cruel.
I am sorry that I would not drive out of my way to a Dollar Tree (yes, it’s a dollar store, in case you, my oh-so-astute readers couldn’t tell by the “clever” name) so that you could purchase a “weapon set” (which, even at $1 is probably …no, not probably...it IS over-priced) that you saw last week and did not buy when given the opportunity.
I’m sorry that gas is expensive and frankly I do not think it is worth the expense of it to make an unnecessary trip to the Dollar Tree for one (or possibly two) unnecessary item(s).
I’m sorry that we will be going right past said Dollar Tree in a couple hours on the way to lacrosse practice, but not right now.
I’m sorry that you only brought a dollar and you’ll have to get the 7 cents tax from somewhere (not from me). I assure you: if you gather together your additional 7 cents, I promise that I will make a stop ON THE WAY HOME (because I guarantee that we will be late to practice if we stop on the way, and mama won’t tolerate tardiness to practice).
As an aside, yes, Mom and Dad…it IS just like the long-armed, velcro-fastening monkey I wanted as a kid but I was a quarter short for the tax and you wouldn’t give it to me. Except I never did get that monkey. Not that I’m bitter. Water under the bridge.
I’m sorry, Gentlemen, that you wanted to enjoy your poorly-constructed, junky weapons outside today, instead of waiting until another time.
I promise you this: you’ll have plenty of time this summer to lose and/or break those cheap plastic things; it doesn’t all have to be done today.