at my house, my lil pony….is weird and disturbing

the kids wanted me to play my lil pony with them the other day (we have several of them, including a few i can actually name).  they set it up with a pony car, some pony groceries and a grocery cart, and various other things.  the detailed background story that 10yo came up with for each pony was amazing.  after playing a pretty much normal game for a while, things turned to less standard fare.

the rest of the playing is impossible to recreate in words, and possibly should not be for public consumption.  suffice it to say that we segued into a song (the first song) called “i am a dodo (bird).” then there was soy riding (yes, soy) on another pony (don’t. ask.), which after a while led bizarrely into an adult pony (there were kid and baby ponies, of course) lying on the ground muttering they were a bitter adult with emotional issues, and eventually to numerous accusations that certain ponies were making other ponies need therapy.  somewhere in the middle there was the poof song (which consists of saying poof a million times), and repeated statements through the entire game of “i like pie!”

i’m pretty sure that i now need therapy.


bedtime for bozos

this was my putting the kids to bed tonight:

9yo [singing]:  tractor!  gonna see a chiropractor!  he’s gonna fix my backtor!  [dies laughing and rolling around on the bed]

[sidenote:  clearly i need to rethink letting them watch the fairly oddparents]

6yo [as i tell her to get off the covers and under them]:  booty up in the air! booty down on the ground!  booty booty all around!  [dissolves into giggling fit]

me:  *sigh*


6yo:  mama, i want to tell you something that happened on the playground that you will want to know about.

me [wary since she often tells me things i so do not want to know about]:  will i really want to know about this?

6yo:  yes, you will.

me:  are you sure??

6yo:  yes!

me [sighing]:  okay, what?

6yo:  there was a dead squirrel on the ground and one of the kids touched it.

9yo:  and now they have cooties. or rabies!!!!

me:  …that is exactly the kind of thing I DO NOT WANT TO KNOW!  especially while i’m eating dinner.

6yo [giggling]:  how am i supposed to know that?

me:  [drops head onto table]