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Time To Essay The Situation

| Staten Island, NY, USA | Children, Popular, Sons & Daughters

(I am picking my two sons from school, aged six and eight. My eight-year-old comes out strutting like a peacock. I have to know what’s up with all the annoying swagger.)

Eight-Year-Old: *proudly* “I just said ‘NO’ to two girls without hurting their feelings.”

Me: “You said ‘NO’ to what?!”

Eight-Year-Old: “One girl said she should be my girlfriend; another girl said she should be my girlfriend. They argued, so I said, ‘Write me a 300-word essay why you should be my girlfriend. Best essay wins.’”

Me: “You could’ve just said, ‘No, thanks. I’m only eight. Ask me again when I’m thirty!’”

Eight-Year-Old: “Can’t say that. I have manners now.”

(I think, “since when did this punk acquire good manners?”)

Me: “What if one girl writes a great essay? Or both of them?”

Eight-Year-Old: “They’re only eight. They can’t even write a fifty-word essay. See what I mean?”

Me: “No, I’m not seeing anything.”

Eight-Year-Old: “I didn’t actually reject them. Can’t write the essay, can’t be my girlfriend. They hate themselves because they can’t write the essay, but they don’t hate me.”

Me: “Why do you care if they hate you?”

Eight-Year-Old: “Because angry girls are crazy and scary.”

Six-Year-Old: *breaking his silence* “You should see yourself when you’re angry, Momzilla!”

Me: “What planet are you guys from?”

Eight-Year-Old: “From Planet Uterus!”

Six-Year-Old: “We came out of your own loins!”

Me: “Oh. My. God.”

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That’s One Stinky Flower

| Portland, OR, USA | Popular, Sons & Daughters

(I am walking my children to school. This was a conversation between me and my 10-year-old daughter.)

Daughter: “This flower looks like Baby Soft Bottom!”

Me: “Uh… I don’t think that’s a flower. I don’t know what baby’s bottom YOU’RE looking at, but this flower is neon pink and that baby needs some diaper rash cream.”

Daughter: “No, it’s Baby Soft Bottom. [Friend]’s mom said it’s Baby Soft Bottom… I don’t think I’m saying it right.”

Me: “You mean Baby’s Breath?”

Daughter: “YES!”

Me: “…”

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A Higher Grade Of Grandparent

| TX, USA | Grandparents, Popular

(My grandfather is picking me up from school. I am really upset because I had made a ‘B’ on a quiz and this was the lowest grade I have ever had. My grandfather always tries to cheer people up but he isn’t a very funny guy; he tends to scare people.)

Grandfather: “Are you okay?”

Me: “Yeah, I’m fine. I just got a ‘B’ on a quiz and I’m not too happy about it.”

Grandfather: “Are you serious? I never made a ‘B’ in my life.”

Me: “I will try to bring it—”

Grandfather: “—I never made an ‘A’ either.”

(That made my day a lot better.)

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