Conversational Circle of Death


While riding in my parents' minivan, King and Curtis were having an all too familiar circular conversation.

Pointing at the video screen on the ceiling, King said, "I could play Xbox on that."

Curtis responded, "No, you couldn't."

"Yes. I could."

"No. You couldn't."

King finally realized that he was caught in his dad's conversational circle of death.

He tried to break free, "If I was the only one in the minivan, I could. I mean it would be possible."

But Curtis delivered what would normally be the conversation-killing death-blow, "And if my aunt had balls, she'd be my uncle."

Then Michael jumped in and turned the conversation on its head, "Well… not necessarily."

The Namer

Hello My Name is the Namer.png

Michael and his dad were sitting on the bed, taking turns playing the drum machine when I walked into the room.

"Mom, do you want to hear my drum session? It's called Dark and Light.

Curtis said, "He is..."

Before Curtis could finish his sentence Michael interrupted. He was confident he knew what his dad was going to say: he was going to tell me about his son's greatness.

"I'm a namer. I'm good at naming things."

Obviously, this was not what Curtis was going to say. "What? You're good at naming things? Everyone can name things."

"Yeah, but I can name things more well."

The Worst Dog Sitters Ever

While watching Curtis' parents' dog, Shelby, I noticed that her face was looking a little weird.

I deduced that the spots on her face were hives.

Michael exclaimed, his voice full of concern,

We are the worst dog sitters ever!

We were able to control the hives with regular doses of childrens' liquid cherry flavored antihistamine, but they always came back as soon as the medicine wore off.

Cherry Antihistamine Sunrise


We never did figure out what was causing the hives, but they went away as soon as she went back to her own home.

I guess she was allergic to us.

What up, Britches? Little Britches.jpg

I just started reading aloud to the boys the book Little Britches: Father and I Were Ranchers by Ralph Moody.

Mike looked at the title and asked,

What if the "r" was missing?

My response was:

Um... How do you know that word?

Both boys looked at their father.

Me? I don't use that word.

To which King responded:

What about that time you kept saying to us 'What up, Bitches?'

Oh, yeah.