we are in one room, listening to the kids play together in another. all of a sudden, we hear this:
7yo: and the knife slices down. …. and the person is dead.
no idea wtf they are playing, but it’s a good reason to sleep with the lights on.
9yo: i’m cold. why am i cold?
7yo: because you are a big ice cube with a bum.
9yo: well, you are a tooty fruity sno cone with a head.
7yo [doing homework]: mama, one of our spelling words is “rang.” like batarang!
9yo [bouncing on her new bungee cord chair]: this trick is called the human can. you ask why it’s not called the human cannonball? [ i didn’t] because when you shoot forward, you get stuffed into a can of franks and beans.
daddy: you girls have a short week and then a 4 day weekend!
9yo: oh yeah. oh yeah. who’s the relaxer? oh yeah.
as a follow up to the bum labeling conversation, 9yo just announced that 7yo told her she is an imbecile bum.
i come out of the bathroom. both kids are snickering. i look around suspiciously but see nothing. 9yo whispers to 7yo and tries to get her to tell me something. 7yo refuses.
9yo: 7yo said you said she could use your labeler.
me: um, no, i didn’t. [narrows eyes at them] what did you do?
9yo: well, we made some labels….. [laughing behind her hand]
7yo: i typed in “bum” and made a label to stick on my bum!!! [giggling crazily and turning around to show me her bum]
9yo: and then we typed in poopy and pee……. [cracking up and showing me labels]
me: stop. just stop. now. [drops head sadly]
this is clearly daddy’s fault, as they KNOW i don’t want to hear about bums or toilets or whatever. maybe i should just be happy they are organizing?