Conversation with my husband.
Him: “So here’s the dilemma. Do I start drinking during the football games on Sunday [they come on at 6am and 11am here], or do I show some restraint and maturity and wait to drink until we go to the neighborhood block party later in the afternoon?”
Me: “That’s hard. I guess if you wanted to show *some* restraint and maturity, you could wait to drink until the 11am game.”
Him: “Wrong. The correct answer was ‘you should drink the whole time.’ It’s like you don’t even know me.”
Me: “My bad.”
We were flipping through the box of old lunch bags this morning (those that weren’t thrown away or given away).
Me: “Oooh, look! Here’s one from the first week of school last year! And oh god, look at this one. It’s Sherlock and John. It’s awful.”
The 16 year old: “No, it’s not! It’s great! Look at John! He’s adorable!”
Me: “OMG, these are so bad. This is hilarious.”
Her: “It’s like when I look back at my old Deviant Art account.”
Me: “My jam!”
My husband: “I didn’t realize this was your jam.”
Me: “It is! I’ve loved this song since my sophomore year of college. I even downloaded the sheet music for this song so I could play it on the piano.”
Me: “I could never be your woman.”
Him: “But you are.”
Me: “Yes. [sotto voce] Hashtag yes.”
Talking to my husband.
Me: “You know you love me.”
Him: “I do.”
Me: “How, though? Let’s discuss this. HOW? We are so different.”
Him: “I think that’s why it works. I don’t think I would be happy with someone exactly like me.”
Me: “That’s true. You’d be bored. HASHTAG BORED!”
Him: “Yes. But please stop saying ‘hashtag.’”
The 16 year old (whose birthday was last week) got a nose ring today for her birthday present! I’m so stoked to have inducted her into the wonderful world of body piercings! Woot!
Today is the last day of summer vacation, and I’m sad. Sigh.
I’ve completely frittered the summer away when it comes to lunch bag art, but I don’t care. It was a wonderful summer with my kiddos, and I don’t regret a thing.
Stay tuned for more frequent bags! I have about 30 on hand, and that’s only enough to get both kids through 3 weeks of school, so I’ll have to get back to it posthaste.
The 16 year old: [flipping through songs on her ipod] “I love Creep by Radiohead. It’s a great song, but it’s sad. I don’t want a sad song. [switches to In Bloom by Nirvana] This is better. It’s not sad. Or maybe it is. I haven’t paid much attention to the lyrics before.”
Me: “Well, considering that the opening line is ‘sell the kids for food,’ I don’t think it’s *not* sad.”