You are sleeping right now, which is the reason that I am typing this letter to you and no longer yelling and screaming.
You are eight and a half years old and in third grade right now. You are learning about boundaries and lying and telling the truth and doing the right thing. (You are also learning reading comprehension, math, science and social studies.)
Tonight you did something perhaps accidental and no doubt an incredibly stupid and expensive mistake. You were taking a shower in our bathroom which has a stall shower. Your sat down and covered the drain with your body to see just how high you could get the water to go. Stall showers are not made to do this and so you caused a flood. A flood not just in my bathroom, but also into my bedroom, also through the floor and ceiling below and into the hallway and coat closet.
It was raining in my hallway downstairs.
I am furious. Intellectually, I know that eventually I will calm down, eventually I will just laugh ("remember the time you made it rain") and I know that I will be sad that you are no longer my little boy. But just for today, I am truly feeling like the days are very long indeed and I am working very hard to find the strength to forgive you for being eight and a half years old and for needing to learn about boundaries and doing the right thing.
Even in anger, I love you,