Scripts and scraps from my real-life parenting sitcom.
Me: [reading a nature magazine] "Hey, did you know, polar bear skin is actually black? And its fur is actually made of clear tubes? It looks white because of how light reflects off of it."
Luke: [age 9] "Wow. I can use this at school."
Me: [suspiciously] "Oh? You mean, you're going to use it to make other kids look stupid?"
Luke: "Obviously."
Me: "It's not nice to make people feel insulted just because they don't know something that you do."
Luke: "Well... I'll try to be really nice about them being stupid, okay?"
“Mommy is the best mom in the whole world. And when I have kids then we’re both going to be the best mommies in the whole world. But… I know I’m supposed to kiss a boy before I have a baby. Yuck. I think I’ll just wait awhile and then adopt.”

Beth, age 6

Circle of Life

The day we came home from the hospital with Luke when he was born, the fifth grade boy across the street from us had, coincidentally, come home from school with a trombone. Not wanting to hear the instrument indoors, his parents had sent him to play it on their front lawn, where he was booming loud and unpredictable notes through it. Thanks to this noise, we couldn’t get Luke to nap, even though he obviously wanted to. We had to wait until the “concert” was over.

Last night, we went to Luke’s school to pick up the instrument he’s chosen to play in fifth grade band: the trombone.

I blame that kid across the street all those years ago.

Beth: [age 6, passes gas loudly] "Excuse me!"
Luke: "What kind of musical instrument was that?!"
Mom: "I think it was a wind instrument, but it sounds like percussion."
Luke: "If I could play /that/ instrument, I'd be the best musician in band."
“I didn’t have to ask people what they thought about it. It’s super sparkly! It just says to people, “HEY BABY, WANNA SEE MY SPARKLES? OH YEAH!””

Beth, on wearing her new sparkly Saturn shirt to school

POSTED: September 15, 2014 @ 11:00am  |   URL   |  SHARE:
“I don’t care if I have perfect hair. I’d rather have a million dollars and rule the world!”

Beth, age 6

stratus-lupus said: Just wanted to stop by and say I find your blog hilarious. They conversations you have with your kids amaze me. They always make me laugh. I don't know how you handle the things they say with a straight face sometimes. I'd start laughing like crazy a few minutes into the conversation. Lol. Your kids are so smart. I can't wait for mine to be about that age.

Thanks!  Kids are great. Just pay attention and you’ll find they say the awesomest things.  Why don’t grownups say these things? What broke inside us that makes us so much less interesting?!

And I do laugh a lot. Thank God, because it’s either gotta be humor or booze to get me through, and too often I’m running low on humor…

EDIT: hey all you — ask is open if you have questions or comments.

Me: "Beth, please go brush your teeth. We have to get out to the bus soon."
Beth: [age 6, pawing at the air] "Meow. I'm a kitty. I don't have to brush my teeth. Meow! Meow!"
Me: [rolling eyes] ""Well, that's okay. Kitties don't have to brush their teeth. But they also don't get cookies as treats in their lunchbox. I'll find you a dead fish instead."
Beth: [crossly] "Oh fine, I'll brush my teeth."
[Scene: I just walked into the living room and found Beth, age 6, sitting on the floor in a lotus position, hands elevated, with the dog facing her, and they are staring at each other in silence]
Me: [starts laughing] "What are you doing?!"
Beth: [quietly] "I am meditating."
Me: [still chuckling] "Oh? What are you meditating about?"
Beth: "I am meditating on the dog."
Me: "The dog? Why?"
Beth: [breaks into a big grin] "Just to make you laugh, Daddy."
Me: "It worked!"
Luke: [age 9] "I'm supposed to write about some kind of debate at school."
Mom: "What kind of debate?"
Luke: "I'm supposed to pick something that people have opinions about. Like the laws about dogs on leashes in the park."
Me: "Okay. Do you want to write about that?"
Luke: "I was thinking about writing about asshole rifles."
Mom and I: [glancing at each other] "Say that again?"
Luke: [repeats] "I was thinking about writing about asshole rifles. Like, I don't think regular people should be able to buy machine guns."
Me: [giggling] "You mean /assault/ rifles, not /asshole/ rifles."
Luke: "I said /ass-holed/ but I've never heard anyone say the word. I just saw it in writing."
Mom: "Well, it's /assault/. An /asshole/ refers to either your butt hole or perhaps to a jerk you're /calling/ a butthole."
Luke: [now giggling] "That's not the kind of debate I can have, I think."
Me: "Don't try to debate assault rifles until you can pronounce the words correctly. Seriously. And there some pretty strong opinions on both sides of that issue."
Luke: "So it's... /assholed/ rifles? What was it again?"
Mom: "ASSAULT. Like A-SALT."
Me: "Like the gun is made out of salt: A. Salt. Rifle."
Luke: "Assault. Assault. Assault."
Beth: [age 6] "What does /assault/ mean anyway?"
Mom: "It means to attack. Assault rifles aren't designed for hunting deer, like Grandpa's rifles; they're designed for shooting people."
Luke: "Not for attacking assholes."
Me: "That may be a matter of opinion."