You know, there are many moments, as a parent, that you know, right when they happen, you'll never forget them. Take last Tuesday, for example.

I took my 2 middle girls, my 2 youngest sons and one of their 4 year old buddies to a local place called "Jumpin' Jimmy's". This is one of those places filled with huge inflate-ables that the kids spend hours jumping around on, and getting all sweaty, and God willing, tired.

As the boys are playing I watch them talking with a very sweet, adorable little boy who is a bit younger than they are. All 4 boys decide that they are going to be friends and play together.

Oh, gentle reader, if only my story ended there.

I'm sitting in the area roped off for parents catching up on world news, via CNN (okay, I was reading a cheesy novel) when the little boy comes running over to his mom in tears, followed by my children and their friend. "What happened?" I ask a red-faced and sobbing Collin. "That boy hit me, and I punched him," he tells me.

At this point, his helpful older sibling interjects, "NO! NO! That's not what happened!"

"Well, what did happen?" I ask, with no small amount of fear.

"That boy", my daughter explains, pointing with a flair for the dramatic, "Accidentally stepped on Collin when he was trying to get out of the slide. Because he was in a hurry."

"In a hurry?"

"Yeah, on account of he was trying to get away from the spitting."

"What spitting?" I ask, my stomach beginning to hurt.

"Oh, Declan and Jake were spitting at him in the slide."

I turn to Declan. "WHY were you spitting at him?"

"Well," Declan explains, "we decided we didn't want to be his friend any more so we spitted on him."

"So, in a nutshell, an unsuspecting child starts to play with you, and you decide you don't want to play any more, so you spit on him. Then, when he is trying to get away from you, he accidentally steps on Collin - who is LAYING ON THE FLOOR under the slide, and Collin punches him?"

"Yes, that's right mom," Declan tells me as he starts to skip off happily to the slide.

And three days later, they STILL don't understand why I made them come home. Well, maybe they do understand, but I am still being called "Meanie".

Like I said. One of those parenting moments I'll never forget. I just WISH I could.