In the never-ending list of weirdo-crappit my kidlets say, here’s another blackmail post!
Previous installments are here, here, here, and here (Yes, we’re actually on the fifth installment, and I still have more unused goodies in The Blackmail File! Muahahaha!)
Basic overview—I have two kids, R and L (Right and Left? Heh.). They constantly spout the silly. I record it, and one day I’ll print the file and put it in their baby books (it’s currently 16 pages long... HA!). Also? I occasionally share it, because it’s just. that. snortastic.
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| Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. |
October 2011
R [almost 6 years old] to L [4.5 years old]: We’re going to silent read. Have a seat.
L [settles on a page]: Once upon a time...
R: No, no, no! Read the pictures, not the words!
L: But I am reading the pictures. I can’t read the words yet!
R: But if you’re silent reading you need to be quiet. Zip it! [L opens his mouth.] ZIP IT! Pictures only! With your eyes! Not! Your! Mouth!
R [almost 6 years old]: OW! OW! OW!
Me: What happened?
R: I stepped on something sharp! It must have been a bug with a spike on its head.
[Clearly...]
November 2011
[I laughed until I snorted, and of course it was witnessed by the 4.5 year old.]
L [dead serious]: You need to say excuse me when you toot, Mommy.
Me: I didn’t... never mind.
L [4.5 years old, singing while sitting on the toilet]: Eat a zombie! Eat a zombie! Wait, wait, wait, eat a zombie!
[Evening. I put boys to bed, return downstairs, pour drink. Hear something. Go upstairs. Find L standing on bed, belting out a song to Pigger, his stuffed pig.]
Me: Hey! You're supposed to stay in bed and be quiet, remember?
L: But I was singing a song! I'll be quiet later!
[::facepalm::]
[Watching Disney's Mulan, I absently sing along.]
L [flabbergasted]: Mommy, that's crazy! Your brain knows the words to the songs and you've never watched Mulan before!
[Yes. Yes, that's it. Exactly. ::snort::]
R [6 years old]: At lunch at school today I dropped yogurt down my shirt and said, “Disgraceful!”
December 2011
Me [to self]: Did I get my tea steeping?
L [4.5 years old]: Yes.
Me [to self]: Did I sort the laundry?
L: Yes.
Me [to L]: Did I turn the TV on?
L: Yes.
Me [looking at DVD player]: Did I press play already?
L: Yes. Why are you asking all these questions, Mom?
Me [working my shoulder, realizing it finally isn't bugging me—I’d had a knot for days.]: That's because Mommy's muscle relaxants are working. I think we're going to have a lazy day today.
L [nods, completely serious]: And I think we're going to have a forgetful day...
[In passing, I pat my 6 year old’s back.]
R [outraged]: Don’t pet me, I’m not a cat!
L [playing with action figures]: Hey, do the bad guys share?
R: No. That’s part of what makes you a bad guy. You’re not good at sharing.
R [addressing L]: Please don’t repeat and repeat and repeat ad nauseam...
[Aw, bless!]
L [4.5 years old, singing]:
Bunnies, bunnies, bunnies!
Bunnies dance!
Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm...
Bunnies, bunnies, bunnies...
Dancing bunnies!
Dance, bunnies, dance!
Just dance, bunnies, dance!
I’ll dance, too, of course I do!
Get the rope,
get the flames,
just dance bunnies, dance!
Or nobody will like you!
Save me.
[An exchange between my cousin Mandy and I, and another snippet of L, our Casanova, in action at 4.5 years old...]
Mandy: So this morning, L was sitting really close to me. He leaned his head on my shoulder, and told me my arm was hard. He then helped me lift it so I could put my arm around him and he could snuggle in closer. You are so in trouble.
Me: Yep. I know. And he’s self-taught, too. Can you tell?
[December 31st 2011]
Me: Today is the last day of the year!
R [6 years old]: And then we die?
Me [shocked]: NO! Then it’s the next year! Don’t you worry about dying, dying is an grown up thing to worry about.
R: Yeah. Because when you’re grown up you die.
Me: O_o
January 2012
R [6 years old]: If you eat too much cheese you turn into a...?
L [4.5 years old]: Cow.
R: Yes. If you eat too much mustard and relish you turn into a...?
L: Deer.
R: Yes. If you eat too many pancakes you turn into a...?
L: Manikin.
R: Wrong. You turn into someone who looks like a manikin.
R [addressing L]: Well I do not want to talk to you, my mouth is already getting dry.
February 2012
L [4.5 years old, singing]
How could I be glasses?
How can I be glasses? I’ve never been glasses be-fooooore!
Never see you
Never see my heart
Never see you through my glasses be-foooore!
[My friend Sarah is over, and it’s been snowing heavily.]
R [6 years old, remarks on snow out window]: I HATE snow. And this snow is so bad there are skeletons coming out of the ground, and flying saucers coming out of the sky! THAT'S how bad it is.
[Sarah and I blink and look at each other.]
Sarah: This is going online later, isn't it?
Me: Oh yeah.
March 2012
L [4.5 year old]: Daddy, when will I be a superhero?
Mr Lannis: Probably not until you're in your twenties.
L: When you die you turn into dirt.
Mr Lannis: Yeah, that's about right.
And lastly...
Me: Guess what we're having for dinner?!
R [6 years old]: I dunno. A kick in the pants?
[This is what you get for feeding your children sarcasm with every meal...]
I absolutely love that your kid knows the meaning of ad nauseam.
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