I think I've figured out the cure for all my parenting woes! I am feeling like a bit of a genius here, and while I don't want to gloat too much, I just have to take a minute to pat myself on the back.
I am going to start making my kids speak with a British accent. I don't care what they actually say, as long as it is pronounced in that crisp, proper and decidedly smart sounding manner that our friends across the pond use.
While in Whistler, we encountered quite a few Brits both on the slopes and in the village. Many of them being young children. My husband and I were completely entranced by them. In fact, one poor little boy on the lift with us was at serious risk of being kidnapped and consequential assimilation into the classless Williams household.
Admittedly, these children were extraordinarily polite and engaging, but I am telling you, they could have been swearing at me and I would have been charmed by the lilt of their voices and the sophistication of their cadence.
I am convinced that by simply changing the sound of what comes out of my boys' mouths will make them much more tolerable. We'll deal with the content later... After mum isn't feeling quite so cross.