The kids started with the gimmes on a recent Target trip. They aren't falling for my, "I'll add it to the Christmas/birthday list" schpeel lately. They kept on and kept on and I kept repeating, "I'm not buying anything. Christmas is close. You don't take care of anything anyway," etc etc etc. A few aisles later, as I was perusing the clearance shelves, I noticed some welcome mats on clearance. "Dang it. I just bought a welcome mat. Maybe I should get another one since they're on clearance..." I didn't think the kids were listening to me, I was talking to myself(out loud). Then I hear a very knowing, "It's too close to Christmas." I turned around to a smirk and a raised eyebrow. I never appreciate it when they use my own words against me.
Same kid. Taunting his brother in the car. "Whatever, Mr. Omega 3."-Felix
"Moo-oom, he called me 'Mr. Omega 3.'"-Titus
"What does that even mean?! Why would that bother you?!"-me
And then I heard an under-the-breath explanation with a little ha, "Mr. Fatty Acid."
I've been wondering why Titus thinks he's fat. Little did I know about the clever insults of his brother. I tried to hide my laugh, but I didn't succeed.
Titus, bolting inside, "MOM! I believe! Ruby is a REAL Air Bud!"
Jude on his play phone, "I talkin' to dad."
"Oh," I said.
"Awesome," because what else could my reply have been?
I was reflecting on people making statements defending how awful their parenting skills are with things like, "You just got good kids."
Sean quickly rebutted, "You don't get good kids, you raise them."
On the same thread, people saying one couldn't understand marital issues with, "You got a good one." Um, no. Sean is self admittedly the most difficult person on the planet to live with. He may be tempted to say the same about me. You don't get a good marriage, you create one.
John Calvin once said, "It is a sign of a perverse and treacherous disposition to wound the good name of another when he has no opportunity of defending himself."
Jude has a pair of Sperry's that don't fit him anymore. He thinks they're called "Fairies."
A text I sent to Sean this afternoon:
Does your "no racing" rule apply if someone goads me. If I'm not the one chomping at the bit? Just curious.
He didn't take the bait, so I continued.
I'm not saying that I did. Or that I won. And also, who says money can't buy happiness?! Driving this car makes me smile, REAL BIG.
When speaking with a potential Craigslist customer. "Where exactly is Gloucester?" I could hear him typing it on a keyboard. "Oh. Oooooooh." Yeah, he didn't come for the refrigerator.