Macey is always assuring me of random rules that it hadn't occurred to me to establish. Like, "We don't cut off our fingers," or "We don't eat paper." A few weeks ago, I pointed out a spider in our laundry room. The conversation started out about the same as usual:
Macey (solemnly): "We don't eat a spider."
Mom (distracted): "No, we would never eat a spider." (Pause.) "Wait... would we ever eat a spider?"
Macey: "Yes."
Mom: "When?"
Macey: "Um, thirty minutes."
Mom: "Who was with you when you ate the spider?"
Macey: "Miss Rene."
Mom: "What did she say when you ate it?"
Macey (matter-of-factly): "She said 'ew'."
On our flight home from Rome, we hit some turbulence — the borderline scary
kind that turns your stomach and elicits the occasional gasp. I am a pretty
sea...
4 hours ago
1 comments:
That is great. I wonder what Macey would do when my four year old Avram walked in with his usual "Hey ladies" in white boy pimp style. Oh well. Guess it's better than being called The White Mama for two years by my oldest. I don't know where kids get this stuff.
Post a Comment