1...2...3...

It makes me cringe.  The "Mom" count.  You know the one.  I'm counting to three so you do what you were supposed to do before I started counting. Yah, that's it. 

I assure you he's always on his best behavior.

 So one day, in an event totally out of character for any of my darling children, one of the knuckleheads (err, angels) was doing something he or she wasn't supposed to do.

And then it happened.  

Me? Misbehave? Never.

"Darling, sweetheart, dearest love, please stop torturing your sister."

Still in shock that a child of mine would actually misbehave, I was even more taken aback when it didn't stop after I had just asked them so politely. 

"I need you stop that behavior, it's inappropriate."  

This angel can do no wrong.

And then it came.

"1...2..."

OMG. Did that just come out of my mouth? And did I just hold up the fingers for extra emphasis? No, not me, I wouldn...

But out of nowhere, his eyes got big, he stopped what he was doing and said,

"Mama! Stop! Please don't say THREE!" 

Superheroes/Mischief Makers. Yes, Stella has a plastic hammer in her hand.  But she's the perfect Thor. And yes, Putin, my Russian son is now Captain America.

What? WHY?!  This is ri-gosh-darn-diculous (Yep, I have totally G-rated thoughts).  Why do you, child of mine, care if I say the number three?  And why when I count out loud and put my fingers in front of my face do you suddenly change your behavior?

Oh you know that #3, he really means business.  Grr. 

Here I am exasperated with life after too many 1-2-3s. Actually I was just resting my eyes while the kids took a bath. Is that frowned upon?

So long story short, I hate myself for it, but I do the  3-count now. Like, frequently.  But it works,  dammit. 

Oh shit, so much for "G-rated".

Don't judge.