Me: “OK, kids, we’re trying a new restaurant tonight.”
Little Miss Thing, age 7: “I don’t like it.”
Me: “You don’t even know which restaurant yet.”
LMT: “I already know enough restaurants.”
Me: “Give it a chance. It’s an old school restaurant with solid comfort food. Look, here, we’re pulling up. Isn’t that a cool looking older building?”
Danger Monkey, age 10: “It would look a lot cooler if they had a Medieval Ballista mounted to the roof.”
Me: (long pause)
Me: “I can’t argue with that.”
Me: “Let’s get junk food. How about… twinkies.”
Danger Monkey, age 10: “How about something a little healthier?”
Me: “Healthier than twinkies? That’s almost anything. Can you think of anything LESS healthy than twinkies?”
DM: “Um… gravel?”
Me: “Trash.”
DM: “A flaming sword.”
Me: “OK, so let’s compromise and get… cookies.”
DM: “How about apples?”
Me: “What?”
DM: “Maybe some kale?”
Me: …
Me: “You are no longer my son.”
DM: “Yay! Now you can’t give me chores!”
Wonderful Wife: “Why has your backpack gotten so heavy again? We need to sort out the non-essentials.”
Danger Monkey, age 10: “It’s all essentials.”
For reference, this is a picture of just the FICTION books that were in his backpack. It seriously weighed almost as much as him.
We might have a reader on our hands. (or three)
Very Vocal Viking 