My Oldest, age 16: “What is all that noise upstairs? Those kids were tucked in an hour ago. How can you not hear all that stomping? Are they having a dance party? Please tell me you can hear that.”
Me: “If I hear it, then I have to do something about it. Do you want to do something about it?”
(long pause)
My Oldest: “You’re right. I can’t hear a thing.”
Me: “Hi. I need my suit cleaned and pressed today, please.”
Dry Cleaner Lady: “Sorry, can’t do it for today, hon. You have to get it in by 9 am for same day pickup, and even then you can’t pick it up until after 5.”
Me: “Oh, I didn’t realize.”
DCL: “Yah, sorry. See, it’s on the sign here and everything.” (points at sign)
Me: “Oh.”
DCL: “We really can’t make exceptions.”
Me: “Sure. Of course not.”
DCL: “Thanks for understanding.”
Me: “Of course. Really, I understand. Thank you for your time.”
(two steps toward door, turns back)
Me: “Just by chance, do you know of any other cleaners that could do it today? It’s for my Mom’s funeral tomorrow, so I have to find someone who can do it today.”
(long pause)
DCL: “We’ll have your suit ready for you by 3.”
Me: “Hey… Whats the deal with the writing all down the inside of your leg? That looks like a whole paragraph.”
Danger Monkey, age 10: “It’s the rules for the new role playing game I’m creating.”
Me: “OK, that sounds cool, but why write on your leg?”
DM: “I ran out of room on my arms.” (pulls up sleeves)
Me: “Good god, son. That’s a lot of ink. Why are you writing all over your skin?”
DM: (puzzled look)
DM: “It’s the only paper that’s always with me.”
(long pause)
Me: “Can’t argue with that. Carry on.”
Very Vocal Viking 