Skip to main content

A typical twenty minutes with my older daughter

Mallory: What movie did you and Daddy watch last night?

Me: An Education.

Mallory: What was it about?

Me: It was about a girl who falls in love with a bad man.

Mallory: Why was he bad?

Me: He stole things, and he was married to someone else.

Mallory (not necessarily in this order):

What did he steal?
How did she know that he stole those things?
Where was she when she found out that he stole them?
Did his wife know he stole things?
Did his wife know he had a girlfriend?
Did they have kids?
How many kids?
Girls or boys?
What were their names?
Did they know their dad stole things?
Did the girl know that the wife didn't know that he stole things?
How did the girl find out he was married?
What do you mean, she found a letter?
Where was she when she found the letter?
Where was he when she was doing that?
Did she scream?
Did she break up with him right then or did she wait a while?
Did she meet the wife?
Was the wife mad?
Was the wife mean?
Where were the kids?
Why didn't the wife break up with him when she found out he had a girlfriend?
What did the girl do after they broke up?
Did she have any brothers or sisters?
Did he have any brothers or sisters?
What color was the car?
Did you like the movie?
Did you like it or love it?
What was the name of the movie again?
What's an education?
You mean like a lesson?
How is it a lesson when you fall in love with someone bad?
Did you ever fall in love with someone bad?
How old were you?
How old was he?
Did he have any brothers or sisters?

And so on. And on. And on.

Comments

Chris said…
Hmm. That's less questions than usual.
aimee said…
Ha Ha! That is funny.
Krista said…
You're right -- I forgot to add "What does that mean?" after every answer.

Popular posts from this blog

Merry Christmas to Joey, too!

Scene: After the Christmas pageant. Me: You did great, Mallory, we're proud of you! Mallory: What was your favorite part? Me: Hmm. I liked the "Whatcha Gonna Call That Baby?" song. Chris: I liked that one too. Me: But I also liked "Joy to the World." Mallory: Joey in the world? What's that? Me: No, joy to the world, the song you just sang. Mallory: Oh yeah. Me: That's one of my favorite songs. Phoebe: A favorite song is a song that's your favorite and you like it and you sing. (Pause) Phoebe: And you dance. Mallory, before the show, in front of our haphazardly decorated Christmas tree. Phoebe declined to be photographed. All I was able to photograph of the event itself: Phoebe, objecting to the camera's flash: Now she closes her eyes before I snap every picture. Sigh. But she's cute anyway! And so is Mallory! And their dresses match! We're thinking Arby's: Okay, that's it! Recently read: The Golden Compass and The Subtle Knife . ...

It's what's for dinner

One of the things that I failed to appreciate about my mom until I left home is that she always made dinner (although I think we called it supper then), by which I mean, something hot, usually involving a vegetable. I don't remember my mom ever saying sheepishly to her hungry spouse and offspring, "I don't feel like cooking, how about a bowl of cereal?" I hate making dinner. Haaate it. It's my least favorite chore. It's not necessarily because I can't cook. I can usually manage to create something edible, although I have yet to perfect the science of getting, say, the chicken and the broccoli and the rice and the rolls all ready at the same time. (There are those among you who may be surprised that I make and serve broccoli. It's true! It's best when roasted: Toss with olive oil and salt, spread on a baking sheet, put in 400 degree oven for about 8 minutes. It's delicious! Delicious as broccoli can be, at least.) It's also not necessarily t...

Little sisters

Mallory was invited for a sleepover tonight; this morning, as she was packing her suitcase, Phoebe came in and said, "Me too!" When Chris found her suitcase, and gently told her that she wasn't invited to the sleepover, she cried for an hour. I think I'll always have a special sort of sympathy for Phoebe, my second child, because I was the second child too*. (And it's odd, because although I have younger siblings as well, I always think of myself as a little sister, or as the younger older sister, if that makes sense. I think that's because Jana, my big sister, was so good at being the oldest, responsible and, uh, authoritarian, and I am, well, fundamentally irresponsible. We all bowed to her! In a good way. I could never live up to that.) I often feel sorry for Phoebe, left behind while Mallory goes to school all day, because I well remember the long, lonely boring days I spent waiting for Jana to come home from school (not counting the days I spent playing i...