What is blackmail?
Well, blackmail is when you accrue funny/weird/hilarious things your kidlets say and do, write it down
Suffice it to say the blackmail file for my kidlets has been growing... it’s about 20 pages now, and sadly I don’t add to it as often as I used to—it’s like they’re starting to speak sensibly or something... pfft...
Also? I’ve got about a year (seriously!) of silliness to catch up on sharing. So it’s R & L, our two boys—I’ll post their first initial, the date, and their approximate ages at the time of the conversation so you have a concept of the child-mind at work.
A lot of it I have no explanation for—your guess is as good as mine for interpretation, really. I just scribe...
R [six years old]: I want to try this yogurt. [reads] Strawberry vanilla. Vanilla tango selection.
Me [honestly surprised]: You can read that?!
R: Uh, yeah.
Me: So what... we send you to school and you come home and you just know how to read?
R: Uh... I guess so. Isn't that what's supposed to happen? Can I eat my yogurt now, Mom? Or do you need me to read you more flavours...?
Me: Eat your yogurt, saucy boy.
L [5 years, playing Lego]: Curse you, pancakes! I'll get you next time! Your powerful sword is no match for dragon love!
[Boys and Mr Lannis are colouring pictures at the kitchen table...]
R [6.5 years]: Daddy, what're you drawing?
Mr Lannis: It's a passenger ship, and it's on the ocean--
R: AND IT'S CRASHED AND THE PEOPLE ARE DYING?!
L [5 years]: NO! They're DROWNEDING, people DROWNED in water...
Mr Lannis: Uh... well... this ship is fine, though--
R: NO! The PIRATES ARE COMING! And the people will be all KILLED!
L [sings]: The pirates are going to kill them!
Mr Lannis: Uh... that's not really what I had in mind...
Me: ::giggle snort::
R [6.5 years]: Mom, I need to tell you something serious. Ice cream is made out of tickle bums.
Me: That’s silly!
R: I need to tell you something else. Knock knock.
Me: Who’s there?
R: Peanut butter shelly-squash! Hail, hail!
R: OH, MOMMY YOUR FEET ARE HUGE!
Me: Wha...? Why do you say that? [Uncross ankles.]
R: Oh! I saw both and thought they were ONE! Your feet are still big, but you're not like a foot monster or anything.
Me: How reassuring...
L [5 years, talking to our also 5 year-old neighbour]: I like your hair colour.
L: Yes. it’s blond-y. Yellow is a very flexible colour.
Neighbour: I know.
L [5 years]: Mommy, I wish you a merry Christmas.
Me: Uh, it's June.
L: I know. But you should still have a merry Christmas...
L [5 years]: The North Pole is at the top of the world.
R [6.5 years]: No, it isn't. The Earth is round, there's no top or bottom.
L: Then where's the North Pole?
R: It's in the middle of nowhere! That's why you never see Santa, because his workshop is in the middle of nowhere--and you can travel and travel and travel and never make it there. Because it's NOwhere.
L: Hm. Yeah, that makes sense.
[Just when you think they're learning, they add kid-logic... ::snort::]
[During daycare hours.]
R [6.5 years]: Can I have some tape, please?
[I give him tape, he goes downstairs, then returns.]
Me: R, why are the kids so quiet in the basement?
R: Because they're hiding.
Me: Who are they hiding from?
Me: Oh. Are you going to go down and find them?
R: Nope. I just made a sign with my name on it and an arrow, so they know I'm upstairs. I taped it to the wall. I suppose they'll find it eventually...
[I suppose so... ::snort::]
[At the Toronto Zoo, after I’ve scrawled my cell number on the boys’ arms in pen, R, 6.5 years, asked why I’d done that. I replied that it was so they didn't have to worry if they got lost, and so that if some animal eats his head the zookeepers will know who to call about the rest of his body. A couple parents overheard this, so I got the requisite judgey death stares.]
R [laughs, much progression on that boy's gallows humour]: Pfft! All the animals are in cages, Mom!
L [5 years, shouts]: THAT. WOULD. BE. AWESOME! [He then goes on to pretend to have a conversation with himself] "how did you die?"... "oh, I got eaten by an elephant"... "you win."
L [5.5 years]: Mom, Sadie is going to be a bride for Hallowe'en. She's a girl.
Me: Are you going to marry her?
L: NO! I'm not even dating her!
Me: Oh. Who are you dating?
L [sly look]: I'm dating Lily! But she's not dating me.
Me: Oh. Well. Here's your first relationship advice, kiddo: It takes two to tango, but if one person kills it, it's dead.
L: What does that even MEAN?
Me: That means you're only dating Lily if Lily agrees that you're dating Lily.
L [thinks]: Hm. Nope. I'm still dating Lily...