Conversation

I heard the end of this conversation as we were getting the girls ready for bed tonight:

Monkey: ". . . . so boys work to earn money."

Twin Daddy: "Honey, listen. Both boys AND girls work to earn money. Mommy chose to stay home with you and take care of you. But before you were born, she had a job where she earned money. And she is looking for a job again. Mommy is very, very smart and does really, really good work at her jobs."

Monkey: "But she's not as good at cooking."

Twin Daddy: "Well . . . "

Me: "I'm very happy with honesty here. Let's not pretend."

Twin Daddy: "Maybe it's not her greatest strength."

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It's no accident that my cooking came up tonight, a night when I threw the chicken I made directly into the garbage after dinner. Twin Daddy was the only one who ate any, the girls refused to eat it and I took one bite and then served the three of us cold hot dogs directly from the package. The potatoes were undercooked and the green beans were overcooked and I complained the whole time about how awful it all was. I do this most nights because, frankly, I hate my cooking. It's not usually "throw it directly into the garbage" bad, but I have a feeling it just doesn't taste very good to me because I'm so annoyed I had to cook it.

Saturday morning the girls were asking if Twin Daddy was going to make breakfast. We were all cuddling together in our big bed, playing around, and I asked who they thought was a better cook, Daddy or Mommy. This was a set up, because I certainly know the answer and was just curious what they thought. They both yelled, "Daddy!" and I agreed, saying, "I'm not as good as Daddy at cooking." Monkey certainly recalled that point tonight! I swear, sometimes I fantasize about getting a job solely for the purpose of persuading Twin Daddy to quit his and take over all cooking duties full time. We'd all be in food heaven, and Monkey would learn first hand that girls can bring home the bacon, too.

Jokes and More

Turtle and Monkey each made up a new joke over the weekend. Both have some basis in our continuing favorite subject, The Sound of Music. Monkey's joke needs a little set up. Toward the end of the movie, the von Trapp family sings in the Salzburg Music Festival, and when they sing their famous, "So Long, Farewell" song, Leisl and Freiderick sing "Adieu, Adieu, to you and you and you." So here is Monkey's joke:

Monkey: "What would happen if Leisl had the sniffles?"

Me: "I don't know, what would happen?"

Monkey: "She would say, "Achoo, Achoo, to you and you and you!"

Turtle's is more self-explanatory.

Turtle: "What do you call a nun's underwear?"

Me: "I don't know, what do you call them?"

Turtle: "Nunderwear!"

Here are a couple of other ridiculously clever things they said today. We met with Twin Daddy for lunch this afternoon, and when we got in the car Monkey said, "If someone tried to call us while we were at lunch, they had to leave a message, because we were in a meeting with Daddy."

Then there was this morning. I put together a simple craft project for the girls - making a little "garden" out of the base of a cardboard egg carton by pushing colorful popsicle sticks through the egg holders, and then attaching springtime foam stickers (birds, ladybugs, butterflies, flowers, etc.) to each stick and around their bases. This was the first time they actually both did a craft project that I assembled, to completion, following my instructions and with the finished project being as I envisioned. That in itself was exciting. But in the middle of it Turtle said, "Making my garden is so much fun Mommy! I'm glad you had this idea." I am too.

Potty Talk

A couple of people have asked for a new post but I've been so busy doing nothing and everything that I'm just now finding a minute to write. I was inspired today when I saw our "potty tongs" in the garage and knew I had found my next subject. So hold on to your hats people, you are in for a real treat.

Awhile back - it could have been last October or it could have been January, because frankly I've lost all track of time - Turtle called out to me, "Mommy, I dropped my clippie in the potty!" Things occasional fall in the toilet around here; even Mr. Lovey has had a swim in the potty, so I just braced myself and went in. I took a look and there, directly underneath what was surely the biggest poop Turtle has ever produced, was a hair clip laying deep inside the pot. This was my cue to declare the bathroom off limits and send Turtle after Twin Daddy. If he hadn't been home I would have just locked up the bathroom and waited for him because I simply couldn't deal with it.

After he evaluated the situation and thought about it for awhile, he found some old tongs in the kitchen and proceeded to fish out the hair clip while I hid in my bedroom trying not to vomit. I assumed he threw the tongs in the garbage along with the clip, but he wisely washed them carefully and put them in the garage for "next time." And there has already been a "next time" where he had to fish out half a roll of soggy toilet paper clogging up the same toilet. The man thinks ahead, is all I'm saying. And every time I see those potty tongs, I'm proud I had the foresight to marry him.

We've had a lot of potty drama around here in the last couple of weeks, from a vomit-and-fever-producing stomach virus hitting each of the girls to a colonoscopy for Twin Daddy to remove a benign polyp. But potty humor is also very hip these days, with "poo poo" being the punch line of most of the "jokes" the girls try to tell. So tonight at bedtime Monkey kept telling me Knock Knock jokes with the Knocker being some version of "poo poo," like "Poo poo li do di." "Poo poo li do di who?" I asked. "Poo poo li do di Poo Poo!" After a few inane rounds of that, I tried to teach her, "Banana, Banana Who, Banana, Banana Who, Orange, Orange you glad I didn't say Banana?" She just stared at me blankly. The girl can sing all the words to Edelweiss but she just didn't get the joke. So I said, "Orange Poo Poo!" instead, and she shrieked with laughter.

I hope for your sake that I'll be inspired by something less vulgar next time I blog. But then it won't be nearly as interesting, will it?