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.”
Little Miss Thing, age 7: “Daddy, why do you have white hairs in your beard?”
Danger Monkey, age 10: “He has them in his hair, too. See… there, and there, and there. All over.”
LMT: “They’re kind of silver. How did they get there?”
Me: “They’re called grey hairs. It just happens naturally as we get older. Almost everyone over 40 has some grey hair.”
DM: “Really?”
Me: “Yes, really.”
DM: “So… I’ll get grey hair when I’m old?”
Me: “Yup. It’s totally natural and nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, I kind of like my grey hair.”
LMT: “Everybody?”
Me: “Yup.”
LMT: “Wait a minute… Mom doesn’t have any grey hair.”
Me: (long pause)
Me: “Nope, she sure doesn’t.”
Me: “How was your sleepover?”
Little Miss Thing, age 7: “It was great. I painted dolphins.”
Me: “Cool. You get to choose where we eat dinner tonight.”
LMT: “Hmm… how about Buccetto’s?”
Me: “Sounds good. Why Bucetto’s?”
LMT: “Because it sounds like Butt-Chews-Toes.”
Me: …
Me: “Welcome home, kiddo. I missed you.”
Very Vocal Viking 