Lani and I were talking today about our parenting skills. We all know I’m a lousy mother, but Lani’s rep was pretty good until we reviewed the past couple of days:
Sweetness (showing Fake Aunt Jenny the drawing on her mini Etch-A-Sketch): Guess what this is.
FAJ: A guy with horns.
Sweetness: No, it’s a bunny!
Mommy: Fake Aunt Jenny has issues.
Sweetness’s arms are too sore to lift above her head because she spent five hours playing the Harry Potter game on her Wii.
Mommy: Hey, she was quiet.
FAJ (to other shoppers in Hobby Lobby): These are not my children. I don’t know why they’re following me around.
Sweetness: We love you, Aunt Jenny.
FAJ: Beat it, kid.
Mommy (after Light tripped and hit her head on the big wood sewing case): Oh! Honey! Are you okay? Because Mommy’s had two glasses of wine and it’s only 4 o’clock and I really don’t want to go to the hospital unless we REALLY have to. Here. How many fingers?
Mommy: Okay, that’s good then.
FAJ: Girls, Veronica just threw up on Mona’s head. Be careful.
Light: Are you going to give her a bath?
FAJ: Yeah, eventually. In the meantime, don’t pet the yellow fur.
FAJ (with Sweetness and Light being noisy in Hobby Lobby): I will beat you like gongs.
Sweetness: I don’t want to write thank you notes. I hate writing thank you notes.
FAJ: Suck it up. There is no free lunch.
Mommy (after Sweetness says something rude): Sweetness has decided she doesn’t like manners.
FAJ: Gee, I hadn’t noticed from the way she said, ‘Hey, Aunt Jenny, you’re old. Move!’
Sweetness(rapping from the back seat): Hey, Aunt Jenny, you’re old, move! Hey, Aunt Jenny, you’re old, move! Hey, Aunt Jenny, you’re old, move!
FAJ: You’re not going to be in that back seat forever, kid.
Sweetness (shaking her mini-Etch-A-Sketch): I can’t get this to work!
Mommy: Intelligence is overrated. Don’t worry. You’re pretty.
Light (coming to ask for something she already knows she can’t have): Mommy, is it wine o’clock yet?
Light (sighs in exasperation): Will you have some wine, please? I want a pony.
Sweetness (doing an interminable recap of the movie they saw at school the last day before Christmas break about Santa’s reindeer Prancer): And then Jessica’s father shot Prancer . . .
FAJ: Jesus, who showed you this movie?
Sweetness: The principal. But Prancer was only wounded so Jessica’s father sold him to a butcher.
FAJ: You’re kidding me.
Sweetness: And the butcher took him to a petting zoo . . .
FAJ: Is that like a farm up north?
Sweetness: And Jessica found him . . .
Mommy (coming back from an extended trip to the kitchen because she was wimpy and could only take ten minutes of “and then Prancer . . .”): What did I miss?
Sweetness (exasperated): Tell her, Aunt Jenny.
FAJ: It’s a reindeer snuff film.
Light pours the rest of her cup of milk down the sink.
Daddy: WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
FAJ: Since when are you so emotional about dairy products?
Daddy: Oh. I thought it was my Jameson’s.
FAJ (in Steak N Shake, looking at the purple bump on Light’s head from hitting the sewing box): You know we could use that as a button. Every time she screws up, we punch the button.
Mommy: And pull on Sweetness’s sore arm like a lever on a slot machine.
Light (ignoring ridiculous adults): More ketchup please.
Sweetness(ignoring ridiculous adults): I like boys.
Sweetness (looking at a Christmas gift t-shirt with a butterfly on it made of human body parts): I don’t like this T-shirt.
Mommy: Looks like the Kama Sutra.
Sweetness: Yeah, it looks like the Kama Sutra.
Mommy: Do you know what the Kama Sutra is?
Sweetness: Something inappropriate.
Sweetness (in Steak N Shake): Light just put more salt on her ketchup!
Mommy (proudly): Highest blood pressure in the third grade.
Mommy (in front seat): When we get home, you’re both grounded!
Sweetness: Aunt Jenny?
FAJ: Forget it, kid, your mother grounded you. You’re dead to me now.
Sweetness (who didn’t fasten her seatbelt before we were on the highway): I can’t hook it in!
Mommy: Try the other one.
Sweetness: Which one?
Mommy: The other one. It’s behind your booster seat. Move your booster seat.
Sweetness: I can’t.
Mommy: Of course you can’t. You’re still sitting in it. Get up off the booster seat, then move it.
Sweetness: It won’t move.
Mommy: Because you have to get up off it first, then move it. Get off it. Get off it. Stand up. Now move. Jesus, you require more instruction than a high school boy.
Sweetness (looking at the steaks Mommy and FAJ are having for dinner): Ew. What’s that?
My feeling is that being raised by two smartasses who think everything is hysterically funny probably prepares kids for real life better than anything else. Bonus: Lots to talk about with future therapists. “And then my mother and my fake aunt Jenny . . .”
Really, some day, they’ll thank us.