Is it too early in the morning to start drinking?
How's that saying go? It's 10am somewhere?
BWAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!
Shut it, you.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Is it too early in the morning to start drinking?
How's that saying go? It's 10am somewhere?
BWAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!
Shut it, you.
Ellie's not quite as verbal but we are working really hard to teach her that when you don't want your food anymore, you don't have to throw it. Or dump it. We are successful maybe 70% of the time.
It's times like this that I'm really happy about having dogs and tile floors. It almost makes up for all the hair and the guaranteed breaking of anything dropped.
How's that saying go? It's 10am somewhere?
I'm sayin'!!!
Ha! Sorry, Aimee.
When they eat cereal, my kids (nearly 7, 8, and 11) still mostly eat dry cereal, because I knew I was not quite emotionally ready to hand them a bowl full of milk. Eventually, they got too used to eating it dry. They all make an exception if we buy them the occasional box of Cocoa Puffs, because putting milk on it makes chocolate milk. I used to plead with them to be regular American kids and eat their cold cereal with milk, but it squicks them. Then I realized I didn't freaking care. They drink plenty of milk. If they look like freaks in college, that's their problem.
On the upside, breakfast clean up usually only involves a broom and a mop is seldom necessary.
Too late!
"Mommy's bowl! Mommy's bowl!"
"You have your own cereal, Lillian. Eat your cereal."
::girl watches as Mommy eats, occasionally making comments like, "Love cereal!" and finishing up with "Bye bye, Mommy's bowl!" as the bowl goes into the sink.::
"Okay, Lillian. Mommy's cereal is gone. Time to eat Lillian's cereal."
::spoon falls:
"Oh-oh. Spoon fell."
"Yes, spoon fell. Do you want another spoon so you can eat your cereal?"
"Want yellow spoon!"
"You want a yellow spoon?"
"Yes!"
"Okay"
::hands over yellow spoon, which promptly joins purple spoon on the floor::
"Lillian, are you all done with your cereal?" ::moves to remove bowl::
"NO! CEREAL! CEREAL!"
::sighs. washes purple spoon. hands to girl::
Drinking and masturbation. We all used to talk about it. Then we stopped.
Now, we've all given birth to contrary wee humans who sometimes make us wish we'd stuck to the drinking and masturbation
Oh, so people added milk to the cereal to get kids to consume milk? I always thought it was because people didn't like crunchy stuff. I never ever had milk in cereal and always wondered why it was considered odd not to.
Drinking and masturbation. We all used to talk about it. Then we stopped.
Not my fault. t stares at Empress
Shut it, you.
Hah!
The scene: Castle von Miracleborn. Saturday. The Empress has left for her secondary job at the dealership. Miracleman has gotten up before her to get her going, and has gotten the Princess pottied, dressed and is in the process of feeding her...
MM: Emeline, do you want a waffle?
Emeline: (nods)
(Miracleman gets a frozen waffle from the freezer and toasts it. Minutes later he hands the toasty warm waffle to Emeline.)
MM: It's hot, so blow on it.
Emeline: (blows on the waffle for a couple minutes. Takes a nano-nibble) Hot! (Gives waffle to the World's Stupidest Dog)
MM: Emeline! No! Don't give it to the--You just let it sit for a second or blow on it some more...AARGH!!
Emeline: Daddy coffee?
MM: Yes, that is Daddy's coff--HEY, LET GO OF...
(Emeline has grabbed the mug in Daddy's hand and pulled, slopping scalding coffee across his crotch)
MM: AAAAIIIIIIEEEEE!!!
(MM sobs in agony for a few minutes. Emeline colors on the wall with a Sharpie she found somewhere)
MM: Emeline, that was NOT NICE! Say you're sorry.
Emeline: (nowhere near sincere) Thorry.
(MM slumps back on the couch, whimpering. Emeline approaches with an impish smile.)
Emeline: Daddy?
MM: Yes, Punk?
Emeline: Waffle, pleathe.
(MM dies a little inside)
t hugs and pets cat whose only desire in life is to sleep twenty hours a day in Mommy's hair. Mommy wouldn't mind a few days of being in bed for twenty hours