Garden Harlot

Funny but not, but yeah:

Asked Joel to bring the recycling bin down from the curb.
Him: You're a recycling bin!
Me: Not funny. Then get a broom and sweep the porch.
Him: You're a broom.
Me. Not funny. Knock it off. And after you sweep, pull those sharp weeds with a hoe.
Him: You're a hoe.
Me: Don't say that!
Him: What's a hoe?
Me: Never mind. Just don't say that again.

A Boy's Phone Call

Earlier today I said to Joel: You can't get on video games till after dinner.
Him: Okay. Can I call (my friend) to tell him?
Me: Yes, go ahead,.
Him: (on phone) Hey, I can't get on video games till after dinner.
Other Boy: Okay. Bye.
(They hang up.)
Joel: See, Mom, that was a BOY'S phone call. A girl's phone call would've been like this: (talking in a very high voice) Hi! What're you doing? Oh, really? Playing with Barbies? Do you want to trade Barbies? Wait! Girls don't trade Barbies. Well, um, I just wanted to let you know I can't get on video games till after dinner, so.... yeah, I know. Bummer! But wait, I got one more thing to tell you. I mean five things. Or probably ten more things....."

How to Make Puppies

Joel asked this while petting the (neutered) dog.

"Mom, what does a dog need to produce puppies?"

I repeated the question, though I'd heard him just fine (a familiar stall tactic of every nervous parent).

Then I said, "Um, it needs a male and a female."

He said, "That's all? And food and water too, right?"

Fish funny

I was reading Matthew 17 today to Joel. At the end of the chapter, Jesus tells Peter to go hook the first fish and pull a piece of money out of its mouth.

Joel blurted out, "Hey! It was a goldfish! Get it?"

Special Wormie, Bad Dog, Founding Fathers

Our fifteen month old golden Retriever can't be trusted not to pick stuff up that doesn't belong to him. Today he got hold of Wormie, an 18-inch white stuffed sock puppet that Joel made in second grade.

Reilly tore the eyes off, which made Joel understandably very, very angry and hurt. In his anger, he threw the eyes into the bottom of the trash.

He carried on and on. "Wormie was special to me! I hate Reilly. I'm never gonna look at him again. I'm never gonna feed him, never play with him even if he looks cute cuz he's not, he's ugly. He doesn't deserve anything he has! He only deserves to go back to his old owner that didn't take care of him!"

I asked Joel if he wanted to take the eyes out of the trash; he could glue them back on.

"No. He will never be the same!"

"How about if I sew the eyes back on? He'll look just fine."

"No, he won't, Mom. Even if you make me a brand new Wormie, I'll still be angry. It's like the Declaration of Independence."

I was stumped. Where'd that analogy come from?

"What do you mean, honey?"

"I mean a copy of the Declaration of Independence just isn't valuable. Only the original thing is!"

Fact or Opinion?

This morning Joel had to discern , for his English assignment, between fact and opinion by writing a sentence for each. For fact he wrote, "My family is weird."

I chuckled and said, "Joel, that's an opinion, because it can be argued. Not everyone might agree." He nodded his head confidently. "Oh, yes they would, Mom. Our family IS weird. That's a fact!"

Amish Work Ethic

I decided today was a good day to teach Joel how to clean a bathroom. I started him off easy, just doing the half-bath.

Not even three minutes into cleaning, he moans and says ,"Mom, I'm turning Amish ,working so hard!"

Let Me Be Really Clear

We were driving through western Maryland, Joel in the backseat, Paul and I up front.
Joel was singing and chatting and playing with his new wrist bands, the current fad.

He stopped rather abruptly and said, "Mom, your nose is divine."

I turned around, smiled, and said, "Divine? Thanks." (I've never liked my schnoz.)

"Wait," he said, "what does divine mean?"

"Heavenly," I answered.

"No, no. I meant defined."

"Defined? What do you mean?" I asked, now the curious one.

"Let me be really clear," he said matter-of-factly. "Your nose is long."