We like to tell our kids, "Bosscher's don't quit, son".  Or "Bosscher's always do their best".  I've heard that if the kids have a sense of pride about who they are, they're likely to behave in a pride worthy way. 

Well...as most parents know, the goose is rarely good for the gander.  I never practice what I preach.   It's a parental right to be hypocritical, don't you know that?  It's one of the perks.   My mother used to beat the hell out of me for smoking, but where do you think I got my ciggies?  We had an understanding.  I wouldn't steal more than 1 pack a week and she got to continue smoking.  Win win! 

Many of you know that we live in the very same town that my husband had the privilege of being raised.  His siblings all went to through the school program.  They were all athletic, generally good students.   And now, here come my little angels through the same programs.  A lot of people recognize their last name and inquire about their roots. 

It's not the children that my husband worries about.  It's me.  We used to have a lovely reputation as being quite a nice family, I'm told.  This was all before Jason brought his white trash wife to come live here.  I've gotten a reputation as being the neighborhood "tipsy".  I started this naughty little blog.  I go on television once a week to bash whomever is on my list that week.  I've put my foot in my mouth on too many occasions to count.  I've embarrassed my husband.  I've single handedly tarnished our family name.  Well, Jason and the boys had a good run for a while.  He shoulda known...he shoulda known.