Napalm, please

I swear — I SWEAR — I pushed the “reheat” button on the microwave.

But apparently, I pushed a different button labelled “Please turn my quesadilla into hot napalm death”.

Big Choices

Little Miss Thing (age 3): “When I grow up, I want to be an astronaut. Or a frog.”

Me: “Go back to bed”

LMT, age 3: “The big bad wolf will get me.”

Me: “There is no such thing as the Big Bad Wolf. It’s just in stories. Go back to bed.”

LMT: “Yes there is.”

Me: “OK, look. Your daddy is bigger and badder than the big bad wolf, and I told him to stay away from our house.”

LMT: (long pause) “OK. I will throw sticks at him if I see him. Good night.” (pads off to bed)