Poor Impulse Control

In case you haven't heard, I really like Jack's new plastic surgeon.  He is bright, young, and enthusiastic. 

And he cracked me up.

Early on in the appointment he commented that I had my hands full with Kate and Jack.  I laughed and said that this was only half of the crew.  He shook his head and made the standard "Oh, you are such saints," comment.  This comment makes me crazy.  Anyone who has said this to me in real life knows that I always answer, "No, we aren't saints.  We are just doing what we want to do - parenting kids."

He must have seen it on my face (everything I think shows on my face).  To answer him I started out, "No, we aren't saints," and he interrupted me with a smile and said, "Oh, so it's just poor impulse control then." 

And I laughed. "Yes, exactly!"  Because that is exactly my brand of sarcastic, dry humor. 

So I have decided that this may be my new answer when someone tells me what I saint I am.  "No, I just have really bad impulse control."  Then I will shake my head and walk away. 

As if you could adopt a kid on a whim.  An impulse. 

I am cracking up just thinking about it.  Hehe.