Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Crazy talk

There are four kids squashed into the back of the car. Three are mine and the other one feels like she might as well be she's around us so often.

They are discussing craziness, or lack thereof in particular people they know. Crazy, it appears, is a very good thing to be.

The conversation is beginning to grate on my nerves.

The one who may or may not be related to us pipes up all chirpy - 'I'm crazy!'

Middle boy immediately shoots her down. 'You are not crazy'

But she is undeterred. 'I'm am so crazy. I'm SOoooo crazy.  Everyone thinks I'm just kray-zee'.

I try and fail to bite my tongue. 'You know that if you have to tell people that you're crazy it means you're not actually crazy don't you? In fact, it actually means you're lame'.

(Ok, ok she is related, I'm allowed these sort of transgressions occasionally).

There is a silent pause from the back of the car as they all contemplate this new knowledge.

Then the 5 year old bursts out 'I'M LAME!'

Which is, of course, exactly what makes him crazy.

Rocking the car goggles

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