No promises.’

That’s the response I got after lying in bed with my oldest last night, recapping his day, the good and the bad and the silly, then telling him with a wink ‘not to come home with a girlfriend tomorrow.’

‘No promises,‘ he chimed with a devilish grin that said it all.

No promises. It’s a phrase we could substitute for almost anything, really. Wouldn’t it be nice to rattle off those two simple words when asked to commit to something we dread? It could apply to all unenjoyable moments in this thing called life.

Being asked if you can work overtime.

Being reminded to show up for your appointment with the girly doctor.

Being told to put your check in the mail.

Being asked to share a cookie with a friend.

Being told to clean your room.

And the list goes on and on. I might just try it.

When Greg asks me tonight if tonight’s the night I will finally get around to buying that alarm clock, since I’m still using his and waking him up at 3 am, I might say yes. Or I might say…

No promises.

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