Edee: I LOVE Grammy Pam's applesauce! Last time at her house I ate four helpings!
Chicken: No, you had four servants!
Edee: No Chicken, it's called a "helping", not a servant!
Chicken: No, dey are called servants, Edee!
Me: Edee, it can be called a helping or a serving. Chicken is trying to say a "serving". Both are correct. You're right that he's wrong....but he's still right....or whatever.
You know what I mean, right?
Oh noodles.
"Edee" and "Chicken" are nicknames for my two little rascals. The names originated from how my daughter would pronounce both her own and little brother's name when she first started talking. They've stuck. Chicken may live to regret that someday....
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
Friday, March 18, 2016
Twitterpated
The sun is streaming in through the windows on a lovely, Spring-like morning.
Chicken: Mom! A deer! Baby deer!
Me: Oh look, two deer!
We all rush to the window to look at the deer across the street.
Edee: Dey are not baby deer....dat one looks like a mommy deer. Dey are playeen chase!!
Me: Well look at that....chase....they look twitterpated to me.
Edee: What does dat mean?
Me: It means that they are excited for Spring.
Edee: OOOoh.
We watch the deer frolic for a few more moments until they dart into the words.
Never-mind that in two days it's the first official day of Spring (and that snow is on the forecast, humph). The deer are twitterpated....it's officially Spring now!!
Also never-mind that twitterpated might be an antiquated term now--the younger generation would probably assume it has something to do with Twitter. I hope we haven't become that uncultured.
Chicken: Mom! A deer! Baby deer!
Me: Oh look, two deer!
We all rush to the window to look at the deer across the street.
Edee: Dey are not baby deer....dat one looks like a mommy deer. Dey are playeen chase!!
Me: Well look at that....chase....they look twitterpated to me.
Edee: What does dat mean?
Me: It means that they are excited for Spring.
Edee: OOOoh.
We watch the deer frolic for a few more moments until they dart into the words.
Never-mind that in two days it's the first official day of Spring (and that snow is on the forecast, humph). The deer are twitterpated....it's officially Spring now!!
Also never-mind that twitterpated might be an antiquated term now--the younger generation would probably assume it has something to do with Twitter. I hope we haven't become that uncultured.
Sunday, March 13, 2016
Rotten Egg
Sometimes I teach the kids things that I may have been better off waiting and having them learn from their peers.
For example, since trying to get my kids out the door equates rushing two (easily distracted) slugs, I'm always thinking up new ways to encourage them to get a move on. Once I let the age-old phrase, "The last one there is a rotten egg!" slip out while trying to get everyone to the car.
This phrase was fascinating to them, especially after they insisted I explain what a rotten egg was.
So of course, now whenever I'm the last to get anywhere, I'm the rotten egg.
Chicken has taken this to a whole new level and proudly proclaims that in addition to me being the rotten egg, he's a "fwess (fresh) egg".
I hear about this often for something as simple as getting to the dinner table or getting down the stairs. "Last one there is a rotten egg," I hear, as they are already two steps away from their destination. "YOU are a rotten egg, Mom!! We are fwess eggs! We're da fwess ones, you're da rotten one!! AH ha ha HA HAAA HAAA. Nah nah naaah." Accompanied with a little dance.
The only person I can blame for this is myself.
For example, since trying to get my kids out the door equates rushing two (easily distracted) slugs, I'm always thinking up new ways to encourage them to get a move on. Once I let the age-old phrase, "The last one there is a rotten egg!" slip out while trying to get everyone to the car.
This phrase was fascinating to them, especially after they insisted I explain what a rotten egg was.
So of course, now whenever I'm the last to get anywhere, I'm the rotten egg.
Chicken has taken this to a whole new level and proudly proclaims that in addition to me being the rotten egg, he's a "fwess (fresh) egg".
I hear about this often for something as simple as getting to the dinner table or getting down the stairs. "Last one there is a rotten egg," I hear, as they are already two steps away from their destination. "YOU are a rotten egg, Mom!! We are fwess eggs! We're da fwess ones, you're da rotten one!! AH ha ha HA HAAA HAAA. Nah nah naaah." Accompanied with a little dance.
The only person I can blame for this is myself.
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