it's getting really black

You know the phrase "the pot calling the kettle black"?

Yeah, that's me. I'm the pot. A big old round pot black pot.

It starts with a nothing. Then you add in a little crankiness along with several cups of selfishness, thrown over some hot coals and...voila!

I'm as black as the day is long.

(I've never understood that expression- don't the days just fly?!)

Let me break it down for you. Remember, this is just one instance out of a growing trend.

If it was a single occurrence, it wouldn't be notable. Like a couple from the Bachelor not making it to the altar.

But season after season of this, although each time you think each couple will make it and be just like Trista and Ryan, it begins to get old.

Maybe this year Jason will finally find true love. I vote for Jillian.

However, that is neither here nor there.

Today, I had the girls and was giving them a snack of granola bars. We hadn't had much breakfast so I decided to join them.

My snack of choice?

An apple.

But not just any apple.

A crispy bite of fall apple that rarely can be found other than in October and is only less that $3 a pound for one week.

I buy it in bushels and make applesauce. It's amazing.

It's a Macintosh apple.

Now, not only are they impossible to find but the one time I found it elsewhere, it was no where near my house. It's next to my work. And I'm sure as heck not driving over there again this week.

So I stocked up on Tuesday and have enjoyed every bite ever since. Down to my last one.

Now back to our scene.

I'm 2 bites into my apple and LOVING it (think pounds of fresh berries loving) when I hear "Mommy, I want some apple too."

My heart just about stopped. Share my Macintosh? Have you taken leave of your senses child? I would rather give you a whole bag of M&M's. Besides, you are getting the granola bar with sprinkles that I bought just for you.

Silently I'm screaming "Are you freaking kidding me?" Outwardly, I'm saying "you have your granola bar."

But several plea's later and I could no longer deprive the kids. So, I found them a boring old, not too good red delicious apple (more like red apple)- to share.

Mason freaked.

Now, if he was 18 months, I may understand the lack of interest in sharing.

But rather, he is 41 months and is quite adapt at this. Or so I thought.

After some tantrums, some chats, and some, um, other modes of discipline, we could have a civil conversation.

I went through the whole concept of sharing, why we do it, don't you like to do it, yadi yadi yada.

"But mommy", came the confused response "You aren't sharing your apple with me!"

Ouch, the humbling lesson was as painful as Deanna rejecting Jason's proposal.

So, maybe this year the pot will sparkle a little more.

And perhaps the proposal will stick, Ty will get a mom, and everyone will live happily ever after.