Deja Vu (and Paid For)

I just know I've bought this stuff before... at least once.

She Should Do Internet Security

This blog post brought to you by persistent jet lag (why else would I be up at 5am?):

Daughter, to Son: You have to guess the password.
Son: Cake.
Daughter: Nope.
Son: Hullabaloo.
Daughter: Nuh uh.
Son: Wrestling.
Daughter: No.
Son: Forest.
Daughter: Nope.
Son, leaving: Okay, well, I have to go somewhere and fart now.
Daughter: That's IT!!!

Better than MacGyver!

This is what happened today, when we expected the kids to entertain themselves. It's rather impressive.

You take this:

Then, you ransack the house for supplies. You put them together like so:

And then you hide it under a rug and wait for something to provide pressure (Mom on the rug, walking in), and you get:

At some point today I also saw a balloon with a birthday candle taped to the side of it. I think it's time to up the insurance...

Adventures in Wonderland

On the trip back, half way through a 13-hour flight:
Son: I know what I'm gonna be for Halloween.
Me: That's months away!
Son: No, wait! I'm going to be a beggar.
Daughter: I'm going to be a whiner.
Me: Oh, goodie.
Son: I'll dress up in rags, and beg.
Daughter: And I'll whine about a bunch of stuff! Actually, everything.
Son: Please!! Please!!!
Daughter: Waaaaah. Whine!!

After Day 2 back at school:
Me: How was your day?
Son: Great. I love day two. 'Cause on the first day back, you're all "that guy who went to New Zealand." But the next day, you're just a regular guy. You don't need too much attention.

The Up Side

Son was disgruntled that the day we lost to the international date line was: December 25. He is not impressed that we will get two shots at January 16 as we cross back over the line. However, we have had this conversation every day for over a week, and counting:

Son: Is today a school day back home?

Me: Yep.

Son: Yesssss!

All True

Daughter, on flights to New Zealand:

We can sleep in the plane?

We can eat with a fork, in the plane?

We can pee in the clouds?

Where's Santa? Is he up here now as well?

On arrival in New Zealand, right before passing out from exhaustion:

Oh, it's beautiful!

The cows! Are beautiful!

The sheep!! They're so beautiful!

Look at those hills! They're. So. Beautiful!

Backrub Emporium II

Son: Backrubs are now 15 cents, because you like them, Mom.
Daughter: Can I buy a backrub?
Son: Of course. You'll have to wait. Mom has three minutes left. But I like rush hours.
Daughter: Let me get money. [Returns with a quarter.] How much will this get?
Son: Two minutes.
Daughter: Do you accept chocolate coins too?
Son: In some situations. But not today.
Daughter: Darn it. Can you give one of my minutes to the kitten?
Son: Yes, but you still have to pay for it.
Daughter: Okay.
***
Daughter: Now I want to pay for the other kitty.
Son: Okay.
[Cat enjoys backrub.]
Son: That'll be fifteen cents.
Daughter: Again? I don't want to give you all my money.
Son: Mom! She won't pay!
Daughter: But he's taking all my money!
Me: If you don't want to spend, then don't contract for services. But once the service has been rendered, and you agreed to it in the first place, you have to pay. That's what the law says, too.
Daughter [getting tearful]: But he just wants a lot of money! I want to make money too!
Me: You can. Set up your own business.
Daughter: Oh, I can sell backrubs too?
Son: NO. That's my business! Mom?!
Me: You don't actually have a patent on them, so she can set up her own business doing the same thing if she wants to.
Daughter: I'm only going to charge FIVE cents for mine.
Son: But then... nobody will buy my backrubs any more!
Me: You have a choice. Either compete with her prices, or advertize something different. What service do you provide that she doesn't? That I would be willing to pay more for?
Son: A cafe option. I'll make you tea.
Daughter: Me too!
Son: Hey! That's not fair! It was secret!
Me: Well... advertizing isn't secret, or you'd have no clients.
Son: Well then, I'll have something else as well. Cookies.
Daughter: I'm building a CIRCUS in mine!
Son: I can't compete with that!
Daughter: You can buy my circus.
Son: Mom, can I buy her out?
Me: You could join together and make one business that offers whatever you want.
Son, to Daughter: Do you want to join my business? You can be my employee.
Daughter: Okay.
Son: I liked it better when it was my business. It's hard having a little sister.