The Work is Killin' Me but the Kids are Keepin' It Real

Whoo-boy. I've been working like a banshee lately. That is, if banshee's work their asses off. Anyway, I'm working again tonight and have left the home premises to do so. I'm hiding at mom and dad's, drinking their beer, and working. Yup, it pays to work for oneself. Beer is allowed.

Anyways, I thought I'd take a break and share some "overheards" around my house these past few days. The best has got to be: "Mom, I really need your help. I need a new butt, because my old one has a crack in it." Thank you, 9 year old.

There have been some other gems too. Such as:

"Every time you put me in a time out, I still love you." -- my adorable three year old said that. Totally cool. This is especially good news, since her recalcitrant little arse finds itself in time outs frequently.

"Can you get out of the kitchen for a little while?" -- my five year old, with her hand on the freezer door, after I told her she could NOT have ice cream. Yeah, sure Lady E, I'll just step outside and let you pilfer an ice cream sandwich from the freezer, and I'll NEVER KNOW. Whatever.

"I can't touch Bob Dylan!" -- a distraught three year old, with sticky hands, after eating a sticky cereal bar. Oh, I guess the important bit of information here is that she got a very large stuffed monkey for Christmas and named it Bob Dylan. You've never seen a kid more excited about wet wipes.

"You guys hate all technology, don't you?" -- a disgusted 11 year old who doesn't have his own cell phone and who believes that the scant amount of time he gets to play his wii is a violation of the Geneva Convention. I could hardly stop blogging, facebooking, and emailing to agree with him.

My nine year old is also responsible for this one: "Probably. He usually does." This was in response to my expressing some doubt about something Rick told the kids, but qualifying that doubt with: "Well, maybe he knows something I don't." Yeah. Parenting is not an endeavor that builds up one's self-esteem. Ya' kinda gotta come to the game with an extra supply. My kids are rapidly trampeling on mine, so I'm hoping I can find some on eBay or Freecyle.

And the nine year old again, on his way to play Solitaire on his ipod: "I guess I'll go play the Card Game for the Lonely."

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It's like having front row tickets to Comedy Central. Except when it turns into Shakespearean tragedy, but even that has it's beauty, I suppose.

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