Situational ethics

A: We can do anything we want; we don't have to keep to a schedule!
B: Except shoot people with machine guns.
A: Well, yes.
C: Machine guns aren't appropriate.

I can't believe the same trick worked twice in a row

"Wait, what do you want me not to do?"
"Tickle me."
"OKAY"
*Boy collapses in a pile of giggles*

Space adventure stories that cross David Bowie and Bill Watterson are the best.

"Major Tom to Ground Control. I'm on Mars."
"Ground Control to Major Tom. Try to find the right place. The right place is The Milky Way."

objectification lessons

The Girl: Holy shit balls!
The Boy: Don't say, "balls." It's not nice to boys.
The Girl: I didn't know that.
The Boy: It's not nice to talk like that about a part of a boy.

Sampling Food

"Whattaya think?"
"Mmm! Not shitty at all!"

Future Historian

Me: Scotland has been part of the United Kingdom since the Act of Union in 170...6? I think?
The Boy: 1707.
Me: [Googles it] Holy shit. You're right. Good job!

female anatomy and Time Lord technology

"So the labia majora are on the outside and labia minora are on the inside? Major, big; minor, small. It's bigger on the outside, otherwise it would be just like the TARDIS!"

I'm so sorry, Monkey

"Mom, I want to see you all the time every day. Would you cry if I was gone and you weren't?"

"Yes, honey, I would."

"It's the same thing for me."

:devastated:

Honestly, kid, they're generally both.

"Luke's not a bully! He's a crybaby!"
-The Girl

Gentleman Day

"You're beautiful."
*giggle* "I know."

Ooh, heaven is a place on earth

Where's Jesus?
Well, people who believe in him say he lives in heaven.
Oh, I believe in him.
Oh yeah? I don't.
I do. Where is heaven?
I don't know, where do you think it is?
Heaven is next to California.

A 7-year-old's reflections on Emily Dickinson

Last night, having finally gotten her room clean, The Girl received this book as a prize (I know, right?).

Some of her reflections:

-I like the two page poems.
-I really like the first one, "I'm nobody! Who are you?"
Dickinson writes differently than some other poets you like. She describes ideas more and tells stories less.
-Yeah, I still like Samuel Taylor Coleridge best.

And there you have it. She's seven and prefers Coleridge to Dickinson, but happily reads either at length.

Your wisdom and kindness

Today, I saw my beautiful, beloved children teach three adults a bit about being parents. A young boy was at the playground with them, totally smothered by parental and grandparental attention. "Try this! Go here! Let me catch you on the BIG SLIDE!"

I asked The Girl to politely ask if the kid could play with them. Her brother was right there, helping find new play and getting right in the dirt with the little kid. No more than five minutes later, the kid was running and playing, jumping off of slides faster than Grandma could catch, and running off in new directions, leading the play for the group. The adults are still hovering too much, but I can see the glimmers of the beginning of an understanding of healthy child play.

I have never been prouder of my children.

The American Way

Me: We're out of flour.
The Boy: Let's buy some more.
Me: Why don't you just make some?
The Boy: How do you do that?
Me: Well, the first step is to grow some wheat.
The Boy: Let's just buy some.