Last week was "Meet the Teacher Night" at my two youngest kids' elementary school. Mary had come home early from school that day with ear pain from an infection. When I got to her classroom, it was full of parents. Mary's teacher was making her way around the room, visiting with parents before the "official" start of the night. She came over to me to ask how Mary was feeling. We chatted for a bit about several things and then she said: "Mary cracks me up. The other day she came up to me to tell me something and when I asked her what was up, she said: 'Oh. Shoot. I forgot what I was going to say. I was doing computations in my head--you know, like 10+10=20, and 20+10=30.' Computations? It cracked me up. Are you sure she's a first grader?"
"Yep. And remember how you thought she was shy?" I asked. "Bet you don't think that anymore, do you?"
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On the same night, I visited Sean's 4th grade classroom. On each desk were letters that the children had written, welcoming their parent(s) to the class and telling a bit about what school was like for them--what they liked and were looking forward to, what wasn't so fun, who their friends were, etc. Sean's letter rolled right along and I was great until I got to this line: The thing that is bad, is that lunch is at twelve forty-five, so that is a hunger issue.
I had a hard time not disturbing the classroom with my laughter.
You can bet your sweet bippy that I'll be using the term 'hunger issue' for many years to come.
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My children all share a bathroom. This has become a bit of a hot-button topic around family meal times. The conversation usually goes like this:
Girl child: I want my own bathroom. You all are gross!
Siblings: We are not!
Girl child: Yes you are! The sinks are always covered with toothpaste and you boys need to figure out how to aim better.
Siblings (in unison): It's not me! I always clean up my toothpaste and make sure that my aim is accurate!
Girl child: Yeah, right! Dad, when you finish the basement, would you put a urinal down there? Then the boys could use that bathroom.
Father: Yeah, I'm not really sure that's a viable solution. Gentlemen, do we need to start putting Cheerios in the toilet again like we did when you were potty training?
Boy children (giggling): No! We're fine.
Girl children: Well, we are not cleaning up that toilet. You boys can do that job. Gross!
Father: You will clean up whatever your mom asks you to clean up. Got it? Oh, and boys?
I'm not going to teach anybody how to shoot a gun, if he can't hit a bowl with his own weapon when he's standing right over the top of it.
And then they had to pick me up off the floor because I was laughing so hard.
What? Don't you have such scintillating conversations at your family's dinner table?
