Forgotten Funnies

...because my memory is not what it used to be.

Phoebe
We were at a playground a few weeks ago and Phoebe left her special puppy, her pink one puppy, on a bench. A little boy grabbed it, Phoebe saw him, and I expected a major contretemps to ensue. Instead she said, "It's okay. You can hold it. Don't worry! You can squish it too."

My in-laws overheard this conversation Phoebe was holding with two of her dolls: "Where's Mommy? Oh, she's not available right now."

Chris greeted us when we came home yesterday afternoon and Phoebe responded: "Hi Daddy! I'm Phoebe! And this is my mommy!"

Mallory

"I did really good at maths today," she said. I asked her what exactly she did in "maths." "I don't know," she said, "but I was really good at it."

Later: "Two kids in my class cried today," she told me. "Annie cried because she missed her mom, and Molly cried because she didn't like the drill."

"The drill?" I said. "Oh, did you have a fire drill?"

"Yeah...no, actually, it was a tomato drill."

Beware of those tomatoes!

Comments

Anonymous said…

A tomoato drill is new to me! I didn't realize that they were that dangerous.

Mom

9:34 PM

H Noble said…

Oh, they can be! When you bite down on those little cherry ones, they can shoot completely across the table. And my nephew adores doing that!
H

8:24 AM

aimee said…

HA!HA!HA!HA! That one is priceless!!!

10:34 AM

I ask you

This is my garden: Or rather, this is the patch of soil that was my garden last summer. It produced millions of tomatoes, dozens of green peppers, a handful of cucumbers, and two puny watermelons. I do not wish to repeat last summer's vegetable bounty, because most of said bounty went to waste. Nor, however, do I want this patch of soil to remain brown and bare throughout the summer, because it's unattractive. So, what do I plant here, in the shrubbery/flowery vein? Keep in mind that I do not have a green thumb. Also, I don't want to spend a lot of money. Also, this area is in full sun most of the day. And it's really hot. And sometimes we get rabbits. Any advice? To thank you in advance, I give you these goofy photos of my children and their homemade parfaits (which Mallory persisted in calling "specialinis").

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...

the closet

Amy has challenged me to list 8 things that are hidden in the back of my closet. I try not to actually look to closely at the back of my closet, so these are my closest guesses: 1. At least three no-longer-needed diaper bags. 2. An outfit that I've been meaning to return to Land's End for at least six months now. 3. One of our wedding pictures, which has a broken frame which I keep meaning to replace. 4. Shoes, shoes, shoes, shoes. 5. Possibly a pair of fuzzy slippers. I miss those fuzzy slippers. Maybe I should brave the mess and go try to find them. 6. Baby blankets. 7. A few small toys that I meant to stick in the girls' Christmas stockings. Maybe next year. 8. And I'm guessing, a bunch of mismatched socks. My closet isn't very interesting, I'm afraid.

Always Remember That

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