(dinner at restaurant)
Me: “OK, time to head back to the hotel.”
(stands up)
Little Boy, next table, age maybe 5: (loudly) “See! I told you he was wearing a dress! See! See!”
Parents: (eyes wide) “Uh…”
Me: “It’s a kilt. They’re very comfortable. You should try one.”
TB: “Cool.”
Parents: (eyes wide) “Uh…”
(at tuck-ins)
Me: “OK, son, it’s time for lights…”
Danger Monkey, age 10: (lying still, eyes closed)
Me: “Oh, I see he is already asleep.”
DM: …
Me: “He’s definitely not faking sleep. He’s definitely really, really asleep.”
DM: …
Me: …
DM: …
Me: …
DM: (cracks smile)
Me: “Very few people smile in their sleep, you know.”
DM: (eyes pop open) “Dang it. I always fall for that.”
Me: “Fall for what? I was just staring at you.”
DM: “Yeah, but I KNEW you were staring at me.”
Me: “You’re not a very good faker, and that’s OK.”
DM: “I know.”
Me: “Besides, your little sister does enough faking for the entire family.”
DM: “She really does.”
Little Miss Thing, age 7: “Which pen works best?”
Danger Monkey, age 10: “This one.”
Me: “Works best for what?”
LMT: “Writing on my hand.”
Me: “What? No, gross. Don’t do that.”
LMT: “Why not?”
Me: “Uh, well… It looks messy. And, uh… it’s hard to get off. And it just looks bad.”
DM: “We can’t write on ourselves?”
Me: “No.”
LMT: “You mean like your GIANT TATTOO?”
Me: …
Me: …
Me: “OK, but no swear words.”
Very Vocal Viking 