Thursday, December 16, 2010

We are in SO much trouble....

Last night, as Hubby was getting the twin Fries ready for bed after Wednesday night church, Medium Fry complained about an owie on her leg.

There was a nice, long, red scratch on her left calf.

"How did that happen?"  Hubby asked

"I took a scissor and did dat."

"You used scissors?"

"Yes.  I took a scissor and skwatched myself."

"Where did you get scissors?"

"From de owrange dwrawer."

Orange drawer?  We have lots of drawers in this house, but none of them are orange.

"From what drawer?"

"De owrange dwrawer.  Da little one.  I got da wred ones."

"The red scissors?" I asked, jumping in.  Those have been missing about a week, and Hubby has sorta blamed me for losing them, since (we thought) I was the last one to have used them.


"You're not allowed to use scissors by yourself!" I scolded her.

"Where did you get them?" Hubby asked.

"Fwrom da dwrawer!"

"Which one?"

"I'll show you."  Medium turned, wearing only her nighttime Pull-Up, to go show which drawer.

"Get your jammies on first.  Then you can show me."

Medium pulled on the rest of her clothes.

"Now you can show me."

"In hewre."  She ambled into the kitchen and went straight for the junk drawer by the fridge, where those red-handled scissors are normally kept.  You know, the drawer that has the childproof latch on it.

She pulled open the drawer until the latch stopped it.

"How did you get them out?" Hubby asked.

"I pushed dis down and den pulled da dwrawer out."  Medium demonstrated as she talked.

Yep, we are in biiiiiiiiiiiiig trouble here.


  1. So why was it the owrange dwrawer?

  2. Apparently, she meant to say it was da owange scissowrs, by which she really meant the ones with the red handles.


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