Our son L. has incredible long-term memory. Although he cannot possibly be expected to remember to turn off the tap after washing his hands (THIS IS THE CRAPTASTIC TRUTH), he can indeed recall the menu selections in the cafeteria on Flag Day in second grade. Unfortunately for me and my husband, he can also recall every misstep we ever took as parents. In fact, both of our sons have peerless retention for those.

This truth became exceedingly clear on a recent car ride to the dentist when my sons revealed that because of at least one of my transgressions, they are indeed scarred for life.

Me: I’m writing a parenting article on kids and delay of gratification. I think I did a pretty decent job of teaching you guys that patience stuff, right?

The car remains silent.

Me: Like remember when I’d say, “We’re gonna run into the store real quick, so you need to be good, okay?” What do you think of when you hear that?

L. (elder son, solemnly): Two shakes. OH MY GOCK, TWO SHAKES. That is my entire CHILDHOOD in two words.

‘Gock’ is not a typo. My sons have always cursed creatively in order not to get smacked. And can I just say I think my son was being overly dramatic? His childhood was exceedingly happy. In two words, his youth could be summed up as sunshine and cookies.

J. (younger son, pained as if punched in the gut): OHHHHHHHHHHHH. SHOPPING! TWO SHAKES. TWO SHAKES. I hated you. That was the WORST. TWO SHAKES.

So now I get to hear about how the other one (who is as theatrical as his brother) hated me for simply taking the time to teach a little delay of gratification.

L. (sincerely): I think I might throw up. You said two shakes so much, and I never EVER understood it. Who says that anyway? What does two shakes even MEAN?

It is staggering to think they never understood a lick of the admittedly old fashioned ‘two shakes’ and never bothered to ask. Were they imagining Dairy Queen? Booty shakin’?

Me (in shock): It’s two shakes. Like of a lamb’s tail. Very quickly.

L.: A LAMB? A tail? That is even worse.

J.: I never knew what it meant. That is so not legit. You make no sense. Two shakes was never quick.

Me (utterly deflated): It is legit. Two shakes. Or ‘hold on just a sec.’ Like when you guys wanted a puppy, and I said ‘That’s a fantastic idea. Two shakes. First, we’ll research it.’ And then six months later, we got the puppy. Delay of gratification. Two shakes. Remember J.? I'd say ‘Mommy will get you Twizzlers in two shakes.’

J.: I HATED that. I don’t even wanna live.

L.: Ugggggh. You said it constantly. You scarred us for life.

I had no idea. I only wanted a little encouragement for the parenting article on waiting. Who knew painful wounds would be ripped open? It appears that someday these sons will lounge on a therapist’s couch and recount the horrors of a failing mommy and a lamb’s tail!

Please. I have made more than my fair share of parenting mistakes—it’s the toughest gig ever. But I stand by TWO SHAKES. I do. I’ve got to trust my gut that no matter how outdated, two shakes was a magnificent teaching moment even if these two ultimately grow up to be psychotic sociopaths.

At least they’ll be patient psychos.

(By the way, the dudes had their revenge. After the sting of their baggage, I lost all freelancing mojo and could not complete that dang parenting article.)

Michele has a husband, two children, a master's in counseling and a blog at hellolovelychild.blogspot.com.