last night, while i was making cookies, 10yo decided she would tell 7yo and me a story. it went something like this:
10yo: once upon a time, there was nothing to say. the end.
me: um, that kinda sucked as a story. [7yo agreed]
10yo: fine. i’ll do it again.
after about 3 more tries where the story gets marginally longer but still manages to say nothing, 10yo enlists the help of 7yo to act out this story.
10yo: once upon a time [7yo points to wrist like a watch], in a galaxy far far away [yes, i do teach my kids the important things in life] [7yo makes grand sweeping motions like the galaxy, then points far away], there were a bunch of people who didn’t do much of anything at all [7yo shrugs] and eventually they all died of boredomitis [7yo drops on the floor].
me [trying not to crack up]: everyone dies? that still kinda sucks. [7yo again agrees]
10yo: fine. so they all came back to life as kickboxing zombies and got rid of all the bad guys. [7yo jumps up and does karate moves with a weird look on her face] the end.
me: [drops head down and laughs so hard i nearly cry into the cookie batter]
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.
me [to 7yo]: it’s bedtime.
7yo: I WILL NOW LEAVE THE ROOM IN AN EXTREMELY WEIRD WAY. [wiggles, hops, jumps, spins, dances, tumbles out the door with a bizarre look on her face]
whereupon daddy and i look at each other, shake our heads and start laughing.
daddy and kids making a ton of noise in the other room.
me [looking at clock]: it’s past time to get ready for bed!! let’s go!
10yo [skipping into the room]: sorry, mama. daddy was teaching me how to shoot off people’s heads. (playing a weird, creepy xbox game, not IRL people)
me:……so glad daddy is teaching you the important things in life. *sigh*
6yo [calling out from her bed where she is reading before going to sleep]: mamaaaaaa, i haaaave a neeeww waaay of tellinggggg you whennn i’m done reeeeading. [voice inflecting up and down] it invooolves making weeeird noisesssss.
me: um, no.
6yo: too late! i already signed the contract giving me the right to do it! [laughing loudly]
me [muttering to myself]: damn soulsucker genes….
9yo [holding one large bean bag in front of her and one behind]: look how i’m going to be, mama. i’m beanburger. as in beanbag burger. i narrowed it to beanburger so it wouldn’t sound weird.
8yo [at dinner table, eating pizza]: this pizza is great. it has crumbs on the bottom that you can like.
me: um, what?
8yo: little yellow crumbs on the bottom. i like to lick them off. [demonstrates the licking for me]
me: you know you are weird, right?
8yo: the crumbs like to visit my face. they have this thing about my eyebrows.
8yo: to avoid the crumby eyebrow thing, you have to eat quickly.
me: um, yeah. [shakes and hangs head]
5yo: guess what, mama? 25 equals……..25!
5yo: that’s weird, isn’t it?
5yo: it’s the same number!
4yo: i’m licking my lips and they taste weird.
6yo [standing in front of me with a blanket over her head]: there’s this large weird thing in front of you.