Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Talkin' About Cute Beavers, Dead Birds, And Imaginary Musical Chipmunks.
Chatting with Bea about previous day's trip to zoo:
Bea: "I like the beavers."
Me: "Yes, they were very cute."
Bea: "Boys like beavers."
Me: *tee hee* "Yes they do."
Bea: "Boys like to pet beavers"
Me: *tee hee hee* "Yup, they sure do."
Bea: "Girls like beavers too."
Me: "Some girls love beavers."
Bea: "Mommy? Why are you laughing?"
Me getting ready to wash kitchen floor and calling for damn dog to come in:
Put one rug outside and call for dog;
Put second rug outside;
Put trash can outside;
"OLIVE!! GET. IN. HERE!!! Oh, there you are you rotten fucking - BLAHHHHHHHHH!!!!"
My screams echoing off the trees.
Followed by my screaming laughter echoing off the trees.
Preparing dead bird which Olive had dropped at my feet for burial in empty swiffer cloth container:
Bea: "Why is it not saying chirp?"
Owen: "It dead. Dead not chirp."
Bea: "Why it be dead? Olive make it be dead? Why it not flying up to the sky?"
Owen: "Dead not fly either Sweetie."
In car, windows open, CD playing loudly, some dumb prick tries to me cut off.
Me: *whispering* "What the fuck is he doing?"
Bea (in squeaky Muppet who just sucked down helium balloon voice): "What the fuck is he doing Mommy?"
I whispered it. Pinky swear.
And I didn't laugh.
In car, my boyfriend's CD playing:
Bea: "I wrote this song."
Me: "You did, did you?"
Bea: "Yup! Me and my friend Chipmunk, his name Chipmonkey, we wrote it together when I was a big kid, on my pink computer."
Me: "Does Chipmonkey wear a fedora?"
After kids devour meal that I'd painstakingly prepared:
Owen: *signs* "Thank You."
Me: "You're welcome Sweetie. Bea? Do you have something to say to Mommy?"
Bea: "Owen signed Thank You. I farted Thank You."
I shit you not people.
More Random at UnMom