Awful or awfully funny? You decide. Let me know in the comments.
We had guests over Sunday afternoon. One graciously explained to us about different phone plans. And providers. And phones themselves. And frequencies. And something about company buyouts. Plus a lot of numbers were being bandied about.
In other words, I was completely lost by about the third sentence. Maybe second.
Meanwhile, my children sat in the room with us listening patiently. Or so I thought.
When the dear fellow was finished downloading us with all this information, my youngest daughter said, “Finally. I wondered if he was breathing between words.”
I’m not sure if any of the adults in the room have laughed that hard in a long time.
Queen of spades courtesy of pixabay.
Except perhaps when we were playing the card game Tripoli and another daughter, not well-versed in the various suit names, laid down “the queen of hoes.”
After drying our eyes on our sleeves, we informed her that it is actually called the queen of spades.
Of course we try to teach our children manners.
Little Joe asked me for a bagel.
“Did you say, please?” I asked him pointedly. Read the rest of this entry
When I step outside to throw something in the recycling bin, I might be gone for ten minutes. My family doesn’t wonder after me anymore, because, cats.
The neighbors’ four cats want us to adopt them. Or, rather, three of them do. Callie, the oldest and wisest, with whom I’ve had stunning conversations, knows better. She thinks we’re a little unstable. Or knows that I am.
The one we’ve named Caramel now sleeps in our yard. Whenever a door or window opens, she starts meowing. I once found her asleep on a carpet square in our garage.
My youngest daughter was the first to befriend Caramel, so now, when we hear her meowing, one of us will say to her, “Your friend is calling for you.” Now my daughter sighs. Befriending a cat can be exhausting. I suggested she take her book outside so she can read and pet at the same time.
I suspect Caramel was initially so skittish because she lives with three young boys, who perhaps are a little rough with her. Clearly, she doesn’t feel that way with Joe.
Read the rest of this entry
“I forgot to tell you,” my husband says, “When I was in my office today, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I looked over and there was a spider on my shoulder.”
My eyes widen in horror.
“It was just a little one.”
My eyes relax a smidge.
“My first thought was to brush it off, but then I remembered this is October. I’ll just walk around and introduce it to people as my pet.”
“But then I forgot.”
Me: “You forgot?”
“Yeah. I must’ve gotten distracted. I forgot all about it.”
“So what happened to the spider?!” Read the rest of this entry
I like to share our toddler’s accomplishments with my husband when he gets home from work. Sometimes I do so with audience participation.
Me: Hey, Joe-Joe, who went poop on the potty today?
Me: That’s right! And then who peed on the rug and Momma’s foot?
Apparently we need to rehearse before putting on the show for Daddy.
She’ll turn it into a holder for her princess dolls.
Rather inventive, no?
A friend shared this story about her five-year-old daughter:
Daughter: “Mommy, tell me a secret.”
Mom (whispering): “I think you are sweet and funny.”
Daughter: “Now, I’ll tell you one… (whispering) Read the rest of this entry
When he spills water on my pants, it looks like this.
Heart-shaped water spot. It got fatter and wider while I called for someone to grab the camera. It was actually more distinct earlier on, but you get the idea.
The other day I heard him calling me from across the house, “Betttssyyyy…. Betttsssyyy….”
Yeah, and as if that weren’t bad enough, more recently, he opened the screen door from the outside, leaned in and yelled, Read the rest of this entry
A friend came across these notes she’d written about her daughter and kindly and boldly sent me photos. She even allowed me to share them with you. Enjoy! Read the rest of this entry