Category: QOTD

Tucking Anja in tonight.

“Mama, it’s important not to wear undies to bed at night, because you have to let your bum have some fresh air.”

It’s hard to argue with that logic.

Last night, I was driving the kids home from soccer practice.

(Volvo driving soccer mom!)

Anyway. I asked Will how his practice was and he said “Bad. We lost our game.”

I replied that if I was sad every time I lost a race or a game, I’d be sad A LOT.

He turned to his friend and said:

“It’s true.  My mom’s done a bunch of Ironmans and pretty much never wins.”

 

We’re driving home from the final day of ski school yesterday.  Anja’s in a booster, asking if she can sit on her knees.  I said no.

“Oh ya right mama cause on the highway no one sits on their knees because if I did, PFFT,  Anja dead.  And then the birds would come and get me and pick me up by my t-shirt and fly me up and PLOP, drop me in the heavens.”

She should write road safety campaigns, that one.

Scene:

It’s after school.  We’re getting dressed to head out to collect Talky Talkerson from daycare.  I’ve had a fairly long day of training, skiing (woe is me) and chores.  I look, to say the least, disheleved.  I’m wearing post-workout clothes, a puffy, my hair is… mussed (fancy way of saying swim/helmet head).

Will: “I look weird.”

Me: “No, you don’t.  You look just fine.  I, however, look ridiculous.”

Will: “No Mum, you just look like an average senior.”

(…)

I’m here to tell you there’s no comeback for that.

The latest gems from the offspring include:

“Hey! Lasagna rhymes with Anja!”

Referring to a bendy straw from a juice box: “That could be a telescope for ants!”

“Coffee is like candy for grown ups”.

“Mama, wedgies are not fun”.

(5 points if you can guess who came up with that last one).