As I started my workout this morning, Avery picked up the DVD case and looked at me with a concerned expression.
"Are you going to be ripped in 30 days, Mom?" she asked, referring to the DVD title Ripped In 30.
"I sure hope so." I said, trying to get through a set of push ups.
She burst into tears. I dropped to my stomach and looked up at her.
"What are you crying about?" I asked.
"If you are ripped, then you won't be my mom anymore!" she sobbed, imagining a mother ripped into pieces, lying on the ground.
Leave it to her to take everything literally.
After my workout, I plopped onto the couch. The three mobile children showed up and started asking me random questions.
"What are we doing today?"
"Why is your belly like that?"
"When you were little, did your mom let you read in bed?"
"When is Dad done with police school?"
"Do you like Thomas or James?"
While answering their questions, I noticed Avery kept staring at my mouth as I talked.
"Do you have golden teeth?" she asked.
"You mean, are my teeth yellow?" I asked, wondering if it was time for more Whitestrips.
"No." she said. "You have golden things on your teeth like a king."
"Oh, my fillings!" I said. "Yes, see, when I was little, I ate too much candy." I told a dramatic tale about ingesting too much sugar and not brushing my teeth enough, hoping to scare her away from junk food. I made sure to make good sound effects when describing how the dentist used a huge drill to cut out the cavities.
While Avery stared into space, imagining large holes in her teeth, Tucker stared at me like he was up to no good, in other words, going to the bathroom in his pull-up. I sat up and pointed to the bathroom and told him to march. Piper also sat up, pointed and told him to march. He looked at both of us, sulked and walked into the bathroom.
Piper has taken on the title of many things in this house. She is the family dog, in that she eats everyone's left-overs. She is the resident thief, stealing as much as she can from everyone, whether it be a train, a pencil, a fingernail clipper, a pacifier, a cell phone or a battery. She has no use for any of the items; she just wants to cause a ruckus. And when the victim asks for their item back, she whips the item behind her back, not giving in. She is the household joker, telling jokes from sunup to sundown, and it's always the same joke. And we have to laugh every time, or else she'll tell it again until we do. And if we do laugh right away, she'll tell it again so we'll laugh again. So either way.
Anyway. I'm off to go get ready for our date tonight to the Cheesecake Factory. So much for my workout.
"Are you going to be ripped in 30 days, Mom?" she asked, referring to the DVD title Ripped In 30.
"I sure hope so." I said, trying to get through a set of push ups.
She burst into tears. I dropped to my stomach and looked up at her.
"What are you crying about?" I asked.
"If you are ripped, then you won't be my mom anymore!" she sobbed, imagining a mother ripped into pieces, lying on the ground.
Leave it to her to take everything literally.
After my workout, I plopped onto the couch. The three mobile children showed up and started asking me random questions.
"What are we doing today?"
"Why is your belly like that?"
"When you were little, did your mom let you read in bed?"
"When is Dad done with police school?"
"Do you like Thomas or James?"
While answering their questions, I noticed Avery kept staring at my mouth as I talked.
"Do you have golden teeth?" she asked.
"You mean, are my teeth yellow?" I asked, wondering if it was time for more Whitestrips.
"No." she said. "You have golden things on your teeth like a king."
"Oh, my fillings!" I said. "Yes, see, when I was little, I ate too much candy." I told a dramatic tale about ingesting too much sugar and not brushing my teeth enough, hoping to scare her away from junk food. I made sure to make good sound effects when describing how the dentist used a huge drill to cut out the cavities.
While Avery stared into space, imagining large holes in her teeth, Tucker stared at me like he was up to no good, in other words, going to the bathroom in his pull-up. I sat up and pointed to the bathroom and told him to march. Piper also sat up, pointed and told him to march. He looked at both of us, sulked and walked into the bathroom.
Piper has taken on the title of many things in this house. She is the family dog, in that she eats everyone's left-overs. She is the resident thief, stealing as much as she can from everyone, whether it be a train, a pencil, a fingernail clipper, a pacifier, a cell phone or a battery. She has no use for any of the items; she just wants to cause a ruckus. And when the victim asks for their item back, she whips the item behind her back, not giving in. She is the household joker, telling jokes from sunup to sundown, and it's always the same joke. And we have to laugh every time, or else she'll tell it again until we do. And if we do laugh right away, she'll tell it again so we'll laugh again. So either way.
Anyway. I'm off to go get ready for our date tonight to the Cheesecake Factory. So much for my workout.
Comments
Post a Comment