You know how there’s a point in children’s lives when they realize their parents don’t know everything?
My kids think they reached that point the other day.
The topic of birthdays came up, and my husband said, “Isn’t it great that you were all born on your birthdays? I mean, how convenient was that?”
Then the ten and seven year olds began a lecture on how the day we are born becomes our birthday, not the other way around. The oldest concluded: “Now do you understand?”
My husband and I laughed. Then he explained that he had been joking. I don’t think he really wanted to go down on such a simple matter. For me, I don’t plan to be tripped up by the children unless we’re discussing quantum physics.
Here’s another example of my husband being funny (because you know you love them).
He asked me to smell something, being concerned it might have gone bad. He wanted to be sure he wasn’t just imagining it. I took a whiff and started gagged.
He said casually, “So, anything?”
The kids like him, too, especially “his girl,” the middle child who looks most like him. The girls were in the back yard when my husband came home from work. I went to a window and called, “Daddy’s home!”
They immediately started rejoicing and running to come inside, when the oldest, the practical one, the one most like me, said, “Wait. We have to pick up our popsicle trash!”
The middle girl said, “Okay, but let’s hurry because I really like him!”
He must be doing something right.