That Can’t Be It

Me: (groaning)

Danger Monkey, age 9: “Why are your muscles so sore?”

Me: “I lifted a lot of weights at the gym last night, remember?”

DM: “My muscles don’t get sore like that.”

Me: “You’re young. And mine don’t hurt nearly as much as I thought they would.”

DM: “Why not?”

Me: “Maybe I’m more in shape than I thought.”

DM: “No, that can’t be it.”

Me: (glaring)



Little Miss Thing, age 7: “I’m almost done reading Harry Potter 3. It has, like, a hundred chapters.”

Danger Monkey, age 9: “No, it only has 22 chapters.”

Me: “Are you sure?”

LMT: (flipping pages) “Yep. He’s right.”

Me: “How did you know that?”

DM: “I don’t know.”

Me: “How long has it been since you’ve read that book?”

DM: “About a year.”

Me: “How many times have you read it?”

DM: “Hmmm… thrice.”

(long pause)

Me: “I love being your dad. You’re a cool little dude. And using words like “thrice” makes your mom REALLY happy.”

The Guy Rules

Danger Monkey, age 9: “Let’s use this locker so we’ll be close to the pool.”

Me: “No, it’s not polite to choose a locker next to the only naked stranger in the whole locker room.”

(naked stranger laughs)

… (later) …

DM: “Dad, why did that guy laugh?”

Me: “Because every guy learned all the unwritten locker room rules from his Dad, so it’s funny to hear some other kid learning them. It’s a happy memory.”

DM: “There are more rules?”

Me: “So many rules.”

DM: “I didn’t know locker rooms were so complicated.”

Me: “Oh yeah, locker rooms are one of the most complicated places on the planet.”

DM: “Ugh.”

Me: “I agree.”