Saturday, February 12, 2011

Kids Say the Darnedest Things

...and they usually constitute utter sweetness, TMI, and information you didn't expect to get but are glad you did.

Consider that a disclaimer for the following conversations.

Hubby has been sick.  A front moved through, and his barometrically-sensitive head had a conniption.  He's been miserable.  And, for the good of us all, spent the last several days in bed.  The twin Fries, however, used to having him around during the day, miss him.  At one point, Small Fry came up to me yesterday with a question.

Small Fry: Auntie J, I wanna take Unca D a soda.

Me: Okay, you can do that.  And give him a hug to help him feel better.

Small Fry happily got a can out of the fridge and went upstairs to give the soda and a hug to her favorite uncle.  It wasn't until tonight that I heard the rest of the story.

"Yesterday," Hubby said, "Small Fry came upstairs and handed me a soda.  Then she said, 'It's okay, Unca D.  I shook it up for you.'  I decided I wasn't going to drink it just then."


Then, there was dinner tonight....

Hubby: Large Fry, are you digging stuff out of your bottom?! [She had her hand down the back of her pants.]

Large Fry: has fur!

Hubby [trying to keep a straight face]: Go into the bathroom.  Do you need to wipe your bottom? [Large Fry shakes her head.]  And wash your hands.  You can't eat after touching your bottom without washing your hands.

Large Fry disappears into the bathroom to wash her hands, and I keep my hand over my mouth while Hubby pulls his shirt up over his lower face.  I concentrate on hitting the keys right on my BlackBerry, so I can send this jewel of a conversation to my parents.  (Dad's reaction was "TMI.")

Now, Hubby had picked up dinner tonight from KFC, because neither of us wanted to cook, and I was still fuzzy from the headache meds I'd taken earlier in the day.  He told me he'd bought the chocolate chip cake because the salesgirl had twisted his arm.  ("She said, 'Would you like our chocolate chip cake for $3.99?' when I ordered.  How could I say no?")  So, not two minutes after Large Fry returned to the table after washing her hands, this happened:

Medium Fry: I love you, God! [pause]  He says he loves me, too!  And he'll never say, "I don't love you."

Hubby: That's right.  He'll always love you.

Small Fry: Does God want our cake?

Hubby: No, God doesn't want our cake.

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