Here are a few scattered stories I’ve been saving up.
The kids have an inflatable globe for school. I walked into the bathroom and found it on the floor. I picked it up and handed it back to them saying, “When I go to the bathroom, I don’t want the whole world watching.”
Can you guess where we live? The girls have made it easier to identify their home planet. I mean country.
And for my readers from the land down under, here’s what the world looks like for you.
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Here’s one from my draft slush pile that I just rediscovered and found rather amusing. The timing is off, but hey….
The night before Thanksgiving my sister took her daughter to New York City to watch the balloons being blown up for the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. On the way to the city her four-year-old asked, Read the rest of this entry
The girls were looking at their baby albums. My middle daughter, the most dramatic of the bunch by far, announced in a grandiose voice, “It’s time for the tale of the babies! Part One: Baby Gemma grows up!” Read the rest of this entry
I present to you:
More Proof that My Oldest Daughter is Truly My Child
At dinner, I went straight for the vegetables on my plate. They were my favorite part of the meal. When my daughter scooped into the pot for her third helping of vegetables, she lamented, “Oh, man. They’re almost gone!”
I was listening to one of my all-time favorite songs, Unthought Known, when Daughter (don’t call me that–bonus points if you get the reference) wandered over and said, “I like this song. It attracted me the way Read the rest of this entry
Some churches provide donuts after Mass for parishioners to munch while they mingle. This is a great bribery tool for parents who want their children to behave well at church. One son drew his Mother’s attention to his folded hands during Mass, saying “Look, Mom, donut hands!”
And here’s a little something from a friend of mine who teaches religion. This is CLASSIC!
I had my students do a journal entry for Isaac when he was going to be sacrificed by Abraham. Here is the end of one girl’s entry:
“….We sacrificed a ram instead. Then we went home, and as we were walking, my father said to me, Read the rest of this entry
My four-year-old daughter was so excited that I put bubbles in the bathtub she said, “I’m so happy I could just scream like a little girl!” Thank you for saying so rather than doing so.
Another time she asked my husband, “Dad, did Jesus make your hair very small?” She’d never seen him getting a hair cut, nor seemed to notice every time it was shorter, so it seemed a valid question.
My seven-year-old daughter was making mistakes with her math worksheet. She wasn’t paying attention to whether or not it was an addition or subtraction problem, as it kept changing on her. I said, “Pay attention to the symbol. The symbol is key.”
She responded in a flowy voice: Read the rest of this entry
My seven-year-old was learning how the Romans borrowed the concept of the gods from the Greeks, but had changed the gods’ names. She noticed that many of them shared their names with planets.
My nine-year-old then ticked off the planet gods in order from the sun and even stated their Greek counterparts (because she’s a total nerd). Then she made an observation. Read the rest of this entry