My sons’ Spanish teacher has apparently given up, and the curriculum now solely consists of them watching Spanish soap operas.
Xavier: “None of us understand enough Spanish, so it’s just a bunch of gibberish, and then a dog runs away, and someone has an affair.”
Liam: “Don’t forget about the ghosts.”
Xavier: “Oh, yeah…and there are ghosts.”
(Whilst watching a cable news channel…)
Me: “Jesus, every other ad is for erection drugs.”
Xavier: “Let’s please not.”
Me: “I’m going to start calling this ‘the boner channel’.”
Xavier: “Please don’t do that either.
Xavier: “You’re the worst.”
Me: “Did Grandma order you your new sheets?”
Liam: “Yes, I got Star Wars ones!”
Me: “Okay…well…I guess that’s okay. It’s probably the last time you can get something like that, so you might as well enjoy it.”
Liam: “What do you mean the last time?”
Me: “Honey, you’re 14, you’re probably never going to have this opportunity to get fun sheets again.”
Liam: “Mother, I think you’re grossly underestimating the kind of adult I plan on becoming.”
YOU ARE NOT THE FATHER!!!
Caolinn: “I love Neil deGrasse Tyson. If I could choose anyone to be my father…it would totally be Neil deGrasse Tyson.”
Me: (murmuring) “If I could choose anyone to be your father, I’d pick Neil deGrasse Tyson, too.”
Caolinn: “Ummm, you COULD HAVE chosen anyone…and we know how THAT turned out.”
For those of you that remember this conversation I had with my sons a few days ago… Their most recent objection to our vacation plans, is that there are sharks in the ocean.
At my parent’s house for family dinner…
Grandma: “So, I did some research about Bermuda today.”
Liam: “Did you find out that we’re going to disappear in a Sharknado?”
Grandma: “No, but you two should know there hasn’t been a shark attack in Bermuda since 1939. What do you have to say about that?”
Liam: “So…they’re due, then.”
Ryan: Where are you?
Me: I’m sitting, alone, in the kids’ therapist’s waiting room, with my feet on the coffee table, eating warm tortillas out of a bag. Let’s hope no one walks in.
Ryan: Why, because they’ll want some? Tell them to get their own damn tortillas.
Me: I’ll even share, motherfuckers!
Ryan: No, no, sharing…just stare them down.
Me: I think I figured something out.
Me: Why I have a kid in therapy.
(Note: the kids just got home from their dad’s, so we did Christmas Eve last night.)
Liam: “So, what time is metaphorical Santa coming, tonight?”
Xavier: “And why did we decide he’s coming back 5 days late?”