Sunday, August 21, 2011

Wait. What Were We Talking About?

Daughter: What's your name from?
Me: Probably Cassandra. The prophetess who could see into the future.
Daughter: Can you see me as a teenager?
Me: Yep. You're beautiful.
Daughter: Is my hair blonde?
Me: No.
Daughter: So you DIDN'T let me dye my hair.

Son, looking through old photos: No offence, mom. But I don't like what you did with your hair in the teen years.

Me, having a meltdown, to Hubby: I mean... What's the point in just existing? I come home, I watch Netflix, I'm happy. But I'm going to look up in twenty years and I'll be 63 and then what?
Hubby, wryly: Oh, they'll have come out with more movies by then.


  1. Or they'll have come out with a rival to Netflix. :) Hubby's wise.

    My advice? Don't just exist. Write.

  2. Oh, my gosh. That's hilarious! Your daughter's response is one my daughter would've given.

  3. Fie: (in a whiny tone): But writing's hard!
    Peggy: I think she is always a few steps ahead of me. I can see her as a teenager, and it's going to be tough!