Part 1The Parenting Trope

My son stole my phone to play a game and went on a nine-game losing streak.

*That* useless?

I swatted his butt a few times.

He burst into tears. "I don't want you. I want Auntie Claire to be my mom."

Oh. So he's the "son" in one of those "father and son win back the estranged wife" stories. And I'm the wife they're supposed to win back.

The script says I'm supposed to get heartbroken and walk out.

Instead, I snapped, "You want a new mom? Well, I want a new dad! I want Elon Musk to be my dad!"

He stared at me, dumbfounded.

"Stop dreaming!" I yelled. "Go do your homework!"

* * *

My son just stood there, looking at me. His big eyes filled with tears.

And just like that, my heart melted.

He's only five. And yes, he's the spitting image of his father—the one whose heart belongs to someone else—but he's so damn cute. And he did, in fact, emerge from my own body.

Besides, he's so bad at the game. He tanked my ranking from Diamond all the way down to Bronze. He was probably already upset about that, and then I yelled at him and swatted him.

Okay, I was being a little mean.

So I tried to comfort him. "Alright, sweetie," I said, patting his head. "Even though you're a total noob, Mommy still loves you."