Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Where did that come from?

My nieces (aka babysitters extradanoire) have gone back to school *sob*. My sister-in-law (their mother) has graciously agreed to watch my kids from the time I leave for work until one of her girls can get home and take over. I think this is partially motivated by a desire to help me out, and partially motivated by the fact that both girls a) owe her money and b) are less likely to borrow even more money in the future if they have a steady income. Enter me and my kids.

So, I loaded the kids up the car yesterday - it's only across the street, but it seemed silly to walk over, drop off the kids, and walk back to get my car - and as I turned the key I noticed the car was nearly on empty.

Me: Oh dang it, the car needs gas.
Trea: Mommy, are you talking to yourself?
Me: Yes.
Trea: You really need to talk to someone about that talking.

What the heck?

Then, I come from work, and John tells me that he noticed a mark on Trea's leg. He asked her where she got it.

Trea: Do you want to know how it happened?
John: Yes.
Trea: Once a upon a time, me and mommy and Adia went shopping. And Adia kicked me. That's how it happened.

Except we haven't been shopping, of late, and Adia (teeny tiny thing that she is) probably couldn't leave a mark even if she did kick Trea.

Work is looking better. The capable, qualified, very nice person Kate hired to work on Mon/Wed has agreed to also work on Tues/Thurs, which means we won't have a gap when my coworker retires at the end of this week. The search is on for a replacement for the girl going to grad school. Kate has received many resumes, and three of them are actually qualified. Woo-hoo!

1 comment:

Ariana said...

This is what happens when English majors have children...haha (Jeff is also an English major). You get very creative, sometimes fictional but highly entertaining comments from your children.

Last night we sat down to dinner, which was the only decent meal I've made all week -- grilled steak, spinach and avocado salad, glazed carrots, and a roll. I put Preston's plate in front of him, and he says, "This smells like dirty dog!!" OH MY GOSH, THANKS KID. haha Turns out he had just been playing a new game on pbskids.org (Martha Speaks) where you wash various kinds of dogs and give them treats when they are clean. When the dirty dog come in, it says "This dog stinks!" or something like that. At least he's got a good memory.