Sarcasm

Obviously, I love my son to pieces. But he is getting so sarcastic in his old age.

I don’t like sarcasm. Don’t get me wrong. I’m plenty guilty of it myself, at times. But I think there’s a time and place for sarcasm, and all the time is not okay.

Being sarcastic toward children is really not okay with me. Even being sarcastic around them isn’t wonderful.

I guess he’s not really sarcastic all the time, but it’s any time he’s angry, annoyed, arguing with his sister.

And unfortunately, like any other bad habit, I think it’s going to be very difficult, if not altogether impossible, to change.

Partly because it’s so often confused with humor, and, yes, I admit, I use sarcasm sometimes when I’m trying to be funny. But I try really hard not to be sarcastic around kids.

When there’s kids around, I try to err on the side of facetiousness whenever possible. I see it as sarcasm’s more positive-thinking cousin.

But I probably do get sarcastic when I’m angry, too, sometimes, and especially at other times in my life, like, before I became a mother. Or if I was off my meds.

I’m not saying I’m a saint—far from it. I have vices just like everyone else. I’d just like to believe that sarcasm is not so much one of them.