We sit at dinner. Max is at work, so it's just the remaining four of us. Dinner has pretty much wound down. "Does anyone want any more salad?" I ask. Of course, the answer is no. (I mean, salad! It's delicious, but they're children, inexperienced in the wonders of salad.)
So (remember, no Max, so I don't have to use Queen's lunch etiquette – because he's ALL about the correct fork), I grab the bowl and start digging in (with a fork. What? Do you think I'm an animal?)
Pepper: "ew!! Gross!! Mom cooties!"
Norah: "Mom put the salad together. She actually *touched* it all"
Pepper: "EEEWWW!! MOM COOTIES"
Me (deadpan): "You realize I gave birth to you"
Pepper: [blank stare]
Me: "Every *part* of you has touched ME" [effective pause & intonation when stating "me"]
Pepper: [turns slightly green]
Norah: "Yeah, Pepper. And you KNOW where babies come from, too"
Pepper: [turns *really* green & fakes retching into a garbage can]
Me: "Relax. You've taken at least 1,000 baths since then. You're clear. As am I."
Stewie: "COOTIES, COOTIES, COOTIES!!!"
Posts
lol!!!
ReplyDeleteKids: endless blog fodder.
ReplyDeleteI love the word cooties. You rarely hear it in Australia, I shall have to start using it more myself!
ReplyDeleteYou had me at cooties...
ReplyDeleteMy son won't touch the same fork as mine, so I too remind him of the whole birth thing. Doesn't seem to do the trick though. At least he loves his salad...
ReplyDelete