Although, sometimes it's not.
My son, well, both of them actually, is a smart-ass. He's 16 so don't be offended, please.
One of the ways he likes to drive me crazy is to take things, especially cliches, out of context.
"Alex, you haven't cleaned your room." I will say to him on any random day, because his room is never clean.
"I know," he'll say. "It's the thought that counts."
"Um? No, it's really not."
Or let's talk about his huge stack of laundry that he agreed to tackle on his own. "Alex, have you started your laundry? I need to start a load."
(Grrr.) "Why not?"
"It's the thought that counts."
No, it really isn't.
There aren't many victories in my life these days so I sort of have to take them when I can get them. One of the ways I can find satisfaction in a good "win" is when I can make one of my kid's words come back to bite him. It's small and petty of me, but, like I said one of the only things I have left. Raising teenagers has left me without much pride.
"Did you get me anything from the store?" He asked me one day when his brother and I returned from the store and he noticed him eating some red vines.
"No." I said with my sweetest smile. "I did think about it though, and it's the thought that counts, right?"