Thrice

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.”

Puppy Doctor

Danger Monkey, age 9: “I’ll get it!”

(runs, trips, falls into bookshelf)

DM: “I’m OK.”

Little Miss Thing, age 7: “He’s limping. We need to take him to the vet.”

Me: “I think he’s OK. No need for the vet.”

LMT: “What’s the name for a veterinarian, except for people?”

Me: “Doctor.”

LMT: “Right, a doctor. You should take him to the doctor.”

Me: “I think you already knew what a doctor was.”

LMT: “You’re thinking of someone else. I’m a puppy. I only know veterinarians.”

Me: “Well, then that makes perfect sense.”