Feeling Driven

Little Miss Thing, age 7: “Brazil? That sign said Brazil.”

Me: “Yes, we’re driving past Brazil. It’s on the way home from Grandma’s.”

LMT: “It is??!?”

Wonderful Wife: “Honey, this is Brazil, the city, not the country down in South America.”

LMT: “Oh, OK.”

Me: “Yeah, that Brazil is very far away.”

LMT: “Can we go to Brazil the country?”

My Oldest, age 15: “Yeah, Dad. Let’s drive to all the way to Brazil!”

Me: “Don’t you start with me, too. You know it’s not possible to drive to Brazil.”

Oldest: “Well, not with that attitude it isn’t.”

A Christmas Story

(from back seat)

Danger Monkey, age 10: “I’ll hit you with my sword.”

Little Miss Thing, age 7: “It’s just pretend.”

DM: “Then I’ll hit… Daddy.”

LMT: “He’s a giant Hagrid. It won’t hurt him. And then he’ll grab you.”

DM: “Then I’ll use a bow and arrow from far away.”

LMT: “No! Don’t use arrows!”

DM: “Why not?”

LMT: “You’ll shoot your eye out, kid.”

Me: “Please don’t eat any of those crackers.”

Danger Monkey, age 10: “OK.”

Little Miss Thing, age 7: “OK.” (cracker dust sprays)

Me: “Uhhh… Do you have a mouthful of crackers?”

LMT: “Mmm… no.” (cracker dust sprays)

Me: “Then what’s in your mouth?”

LMT: “Mmm… just air.” (cracker dust sprays)

Me: “Then why does it smell like crackers every time you talk?”

LMT: …

LMT: “It’s cracker flavored air.”