Right now, Abby is appreciating her discovery of where Mom keeps the holiday decorations. That kid is a fanatic for Halloween. She begs and pleads for me to get the Halloween stuff out. I tell her, "not till October." So, about an hour later, she asks, "Is it October yet?"
She's taken matters into her own hands, and started prowling in the short little hobbit doors that lead to our storage space. Right now, she's playing with the infamous playmobil nativity set with 1,000 chokable pieces. We're missing Mary. Maybe she stepped out to get a diet coke. Meh.
One summer evening, as I sat in the rocking chair, contemplating my options (do I just put the kids to bed now? Or sit here a little longer because I'm not ready for the fight yet?), I decided to listen to what my kids were playing, as they too, were sitting on their butts, contemplating their options (should we sit here longer? Or sit somewhere else? Or, perhaps we should fight. Yeah! Let's fight!). Here is verbatim what I overheard:
The Setting: Abby was begging Sarah to play My Little Ponies with her (ok, that cartoon is adorable, by the way). Kate was sitting on the couch with a bicycle helmet on, trying desperately to blow up a balloon. Yeah, she really hasn't mastered that skill yet. But, she displays a mean set of crossed eyes as she makes her attempts.
Sarah decided to humor Abby and play Ponies, but in her own way. They commenced playing.
Abby: Hi Rainbow Dash! How are you today?
Sarah: I'm doing ok. I'm a little sad.
Abby: Why are you sad? Did Apple Jack yell at you?
Sarah: No. Did you know that Bigfoot-related pony deaths are the leading cause of death among ponies ages 15-18?
Abby: What's wrong?
Sarah: Maybe it's a pony stroke. Poor little pony has cervical cancer.
Abby: Cervical cancer.
Kate: eyes crossed, still trying to fill the balloon.
Sometimes we call Sarah "Debbie Downer."
*trombone* Mweh Mweeeeeeeh.