Come on now, we all know that there have been more battles than that!
So, I have no real post for ya. Looks like any real writing is gonna have to wait until Super Baby finishes a solo battle with Cold-of-Death, the weather stops being so parkarific, I get over my obsession with watching old Who's Line is it Anyway episodes on Youtube, and I find a hiding spot for the Easter candy that Awkward Dad can't find. Basically, it could be a good long while. I want to write something for you, but it is taking all my limited energy to deal with Count von Why. I think he is making our place his evil castle away from evil castle.
Today I dealt with this beauty:
Super P.: What is chicken made out of?
Me: Chicken.
Super P.: But what is it made out of?
Me: It is made out of chicken.
Super P.: But what is it made out of?
Me: Well, the chicken that we eat is made out of chicken, the bird.
At this point, I am waiting to see if this answer gets to what he is asking or if I am going to have to get graphic before the inevitable freak-out and the declared vegetarianism (about 10 years ahead of schedule). I am mentally reviewing tofu recipes when he busts out with this:
Super P.: Mommy! Everyone knows that chickens are made out of eggs!
I am still trying to decide if I dodged a bullet there. But needless to say, most of my battles with Count von Why end up looking like vaudeville acts.
Super P.: What is that?
Me: That is a bus stop.
Super P.: I don't see a bus.
Me: Well, when the bus comes, it will stop there.
Super P.: But there is no bus.
Me: I know, but it will stop there when it comes.
Super P.: There are some people there. It is a people stop.
Me: Yes, but the people will get on the bus.
Super P.: What bus?
Me: The bus that will stop there.
Super P.: But there isn't a bus.
Me: Hey, let's play the everyone stays quiet as long as they can game!
And then, sometimes my battles with the good Count more closely resemble burlesque.
Super P.: What does P. E. E. P. spell?
Me: Peep. Like those yellow sugary things Daddy keeps eating when he thinks we aren't looking. It's a candy, it is super bad for your teeth, and no, you can't have one.
Super P.: I wasn't done.
Me: What?
Super P.: P. E. E. P. S. H. O. W.
Me: .....
Super P.: Mommy?
Me: Ummm...where did you see that, Honey?
Super P.: Out the window. It is a store?
Me: Sorta.
Super P.: What do they sell?
Me: ummm...
Super P.: Do they sell candy?
Me: Well, kinda.
Super P.: Do they sell the candy that Daddy likes?
Me: I certainly hope not!
Super P.: Why?
Me: Well, honey....there are just...well, it is like this....it's bad....
Super P.: Like bad for teeth?
Me: What?!
Super P.: Like the yellow sugary ones.
Me: Ah. Yes, just like that.
Don't judge her too harshly, dear Readers. It's been a long week. Hopefully, we'll be back next week with some scintillating tales and less complaining. Fingers crossed!!
So, I have no real post for ya. Looks like any real writing is gonna have to wait until Super Baby finishes a solo battle with Cold-of-Death, the weather stops being so parkarific, I get over my obsession with watching old Who's Line is it Anyway episodes on Youtube, and I find a hiding spot for the Easter candy that Awkward Dad can't find. Basically, it could be a good long while. I want to write something for you, but it is taking all my limited energy to deal with Count von Why. I think he is making our place his evil castle away from evil castle.
Today I dealt with this beauty:
Super P.: What is chicken made out of?
Me: Chicken.
Super P.: But what is it made out of?
Me: It is made out of chicken.
Super P.: But what is it made out of?
Me: Well, the chicken that we eat is made out of chicken, the bird.
At this point, I am waiting to see if this answer gets to what he is asking or if I am going to have to get graphic before the inevitable freak-out and the declared vegetarianism (about 10 years ahead of schedule). I am mentally reviewing tofu recipes when he busts out with this:
Super P.: Mommy! Everyone knows that chickens are made out of eggs!
I am still trying to decide if I dodged a bullet there. But needless to say, most of my battles with Count von Why end up looking like vaudeville acts.
Super P.: What is that?
Me: That is a bus stop.
Super P.: I don't see a bus.
Me: Well, when the bus comes, it will stop there.
Super P.: But there is no bus.
Me: I know, but it will stop there when it comes.
Super P.: There are some people there. It is a people stop.
Me: Yes, but the people will get on the bus.
Super P.: What bus?
Me: The bus that will stop there.
Super P.: But there isn't a bus.
Me: Hey, let's play the everyone stays quiet as long as they can game!
And then, sometimes my battles with the good Count more closely resemble burlesque.
Super P.: What does P. E. E. P. spell?
Me: Peep. Like those yellow sugary things Daddy keeps eating when he thinks we aren't looking. It's a candy, it is super bad for your teeth, and no, you can't have one.
Super P.: I wasn't done.
Me: What?
Super P.: P. E. E. P. S. H. O. W.
Me: .....
Super P.: Mommy?
Me: Ummm...where did you see that, Honey?
Super P.: Out the window. It is a store?
Me: Sorta.
Super P.: What do they sell?
Me: ummm...
Super P.: Do they sell candy?
Me: Well, kinda.
Super P.: Do they sell the candy that Daddy likes?
Me: I certainly hope not!
Super P.: Why?
Me: Well, honey....there are just...well, it is like this....it's bad....
Super P.: Like bad for teeth?
Me: What?!
Super P.: Like the yellow sugary ones.
Me: Ah. Yes, just like that.
Don't judge her too harshly, dear Readers. It's been a long week. Hopefully, we'll be back next week with some scintillating tales and less complaining. Fingers crossed!!
Still on the hunt for the elusive photo of everyone looking, and smiling, at once.
HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
ReplyDeleteI've said it before and I'll say it again: Super P is AWESOME!!! LMAO!
ReplyDeleteYour kid is just so stinking cute...A People stop, huh?:)
ReplyDeleteYa'll are too sweet! I too think he is pretty cute and awesome. :)
ReplyDelete