About rugrats, minivans, The South, photography, farmer's markets, puberty, Army, snotty noses, blankies, movies, hugs, autism, make believe, homeschooling, sibling rivalry, car seats, weather, in-laws, scribbles, marriage, and somewhere in there, a stoned British reporter.

Friday, January 19, 2007

So this is why some animals eat their young

I won't even get into what time it is. Lindsay is up and is using everything in her arsenal to stay up.

"Lindsay go to bed."

"Hey what's this?"

"That's your dad's, put it down."

"It looks like a hose."

"Yes, it's a hose."

"It looks broken."

"Maybe. Lindsay go to bed!"

"I'm hungry."

"No you're not."

"But my brain is hungry."

*exasperated look from mommy*

"What's this?"

"I don't know. Go. To. Bed."

*Lindsay continues looking at it*

"Lindsay, one. . .TWO. . ."

*Lindsay puts whatever it is down and leaves the room*

*The door to the fridge opens*

"Lindsay what are you doing!"

"I want a taco thing."

"The taco things are gone, you ate them all."

*Lindsay throws herself over a pile of laundry in depair.*

"I want a hotdog thing!" (kolache)

"NO, those are for breakfast, it's not breakfast time."

"Then I want one for lunch!"

"Lunch isn't until the sun is up."

"But we are supposed to go to your friend's for lunch!"

"Yes I know we are eating lunch with my friend, but we are eating at a restaurant."

"I want a hot dog."

"I know. They have hot dogs there."

"Actually I want two things. Popcorn and a hotdog."

"They don't have popcorn. But they do have chips."

*She does not look assuaged.*

"They also have tea."

*She gasps, her eyes widen, and she hugs herself in excitement.*

"I LOVE tea!"

"I know you do. Now go to bed."

"But they are going to eat all the food!"

"No they are not. They are not even there."

"Where are they?"

"At home, in bed. It's the middle of the night Lindsay."

"It's time for luuuunch."

"No it's not. Lunch is when the sun is up, it's dark outside now."

"What about dinner?"

"Lindsay GO TO BED!"

"But I need dinner!"

"You had dinner, we had burritos, now go to bed!"

"But. . ."

"Lindsay if you keep this up, then we won't go to lunch."

*She toddles over to the other side of the room and sits down, looking at a striped frisbee*

"Mom. Mom. MOOOOM!"


"I don't like pink as my favorite any more."


*I am ignoring her now, and she knows it. I hear footsteps on the stairs, and then in her room. It has been quiet for over 15 minutes now.*


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