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?”
Liam: (whispering) “Hey…Xavier.”
Liam: “Santa isn’t the only one who knows when you are sleeping.”
Me: “How many teachers are pregnant at your school?”
Me: “Geez…sounds like there’s something in the water.”
Xavier: “Sounds like a lot of teachers are having unprotected sex.”
Boys: (Murmuring something to each other at the farmer’s market.)
Me: “WHAT did you just say to your brother!?”
Xavier (confused): “Canadian corn.”
Liam: “Wait…what did you think he said?”
Me (cough): “Nothing…nevermind.”