Ego Math

Daughter (about Me): She's hot!
Son: She's sexy!
Me: ... Uh.
Daughter: Oooh! You used the "s" word!
Son: Well, listen. She had to have sex at least twice, or YOU wouldn't be here.

I Swear I Meant To Watch It

But Daughter was given the movie at horse riding for her birthday. And on horse riding days we get home so very much later... So instead, I just put the movie on for her, and then set about making dinner, and school lunches, and emptying backpacks, and probably a load or two of laundry for good measure. Because deep down, I didn't really want to watch the movie then. And neither did her brother.

So when she emerged sobbing, dripping and snotty from her room, saying: "Something's wrong with Flicka! She won't get up! I think she may be dead. Flicka!" I was, officially, the worst. mother. ever.

Thankfully, the horse lived. Note to self: next time, watch the animal movie with the child.

Charity... Meh.

Daughter, after birthday: You know, they say the best gift is sharing.
Me: Yep. They do.
Daughter: I hate that gift.

Spoiler Alert!

Me: How was Gnomeo and Juliet?
Kids: Good.
Me: So, what was the story?
Son: Basically, it was Romeo and Juliet except--
Daughter: They were gnomes!
Son: --they didn't die in the end.

You Say Potato, I Say... Something Incomprehensible

TV character: Hubba Hubba Two!
Other TV character: That's jibberish!
Daughter, to me: So, what does that mean: Hubba Hubba Two?
Me: I don't know.
Daughter, in sardonic tone: They just said it's British.

Busted

Son: Thanks for picking up my room, Mom! And you did such a good job. Have you been watching Hoarders again?

Mmmmm...

Son: Mom, can I have a piece of brownie?
Me: Okay. Just one.
Son: One and a half?
Me: ONE. I don't want you filling up on cra- I mean, junk food.
Son, chewing: Mm. This crap sure tastes great!

Because It's Cold Here, Too!

Me: [searching for remote]
Daughter: Are you watching Some Dangerous Fish now?
Me: ...?
Daughter: Are you going to watch your show: Dangerous Fish?
Me: ... Uhh ...
Daughter: With the crabs?
Me: Ohhhhh. Deadliest Catch. Yep!

Cryptic I Can Handle, But This?

So we ate dinner out. And then these came, with the bill. Little, wafer-thin barbs--the proverbial pill wrapped in sugar--made by someone who must have read Tolstoy:



Here is mine. I enjoyed the dinner. It was a nice respite from the "domestic attentions" of which you speak. Thanks for that.

Here's Hubby's:


And Daughter's.


And, Son's: