Not Exactly the Mother-of-the-Year Nomination

"I hate socks!" she stood feet shoulder-width apart, hands on her hips, and her upper body pointed at me like a missile about to launch.

"I know, sweetie," I replied as calmly as I could. I wanted her to believe that I felt her pain.

"You can't wear flip-flops to school. It's against school rules."

"Yes I can. You can't make me wear my sneakers!"

"You're right, I can't. But if you try to wear your flip-flops I'll bring your socks and sneakers to school with us and give them to your teacher. You can work it out with her."

Silence. Her eyes narrowed, her little jaw clenched. A burst of frustration shot out of her flared nostrils.

"I don't know why you need to be mean to me Every. Single. Day. Of. My. Life," she shot back at me as she launched her flip-flops into the air and stomped off.

It's my job?

You Tell Him, Girl!

"Daddy, why didn't you wait for me to get out of the car before you went inside? That was so mean!" my oldest daughter's indignant pose was incredibly comical, hands on hips, one leg cocked to the side, long bangs flipping out of her eyes.

"Uhh, didn't realize you wanted me to?" he offered sarcastically.

"Hm!" she snorted at him.

"Go put your laundry away and then we can play a game, okay?" he offered.

"I don't want to put my laundry away? Who made you the boss?" she demanded.

"I don't need anybody to make me the boss around here. I just am."

"Well, you don't DESERVE to be a boss!" cue stomping off into the distance...

That's All, Folks!

I love that my Internet-age children have discovered Looney Tunes. Their favorites are the Roadrunner and Wile E. Coyote episodes and anything that Bugs Bunny does. I have, however, discovered one drawback...

"You nincowpoop!" came the burst from the carseat behind me.

"'Scuse me?" my gaze shifted from the road in front of me to the little mirror mounted just below my rearview mirror. She was sitting there grinning, pigtails bouncing as she giggled.

"You. Are. A. Nin. Cow. Poop," she said slowly and precisely, emphasizing each word carefully as if I were her hard-of-hearing granny.

"Ummm, I think it's pronounced nin-COM-poop. And I am not one, thank you very much."

"Bugs Bunny says nincompoop, but I think ninCOWpoop makes much more sense. And it's funnier, Mommy," this last bit spoken with disdain at my inability to understand such a simple concept.

What a maroon!

I Think She's Trying to Tell You Something

"Your belly button is a gopher hole. The gopher saw so much dirt in there that he dug it all out and then died in there."

This comment from one sister to another. I'm assuming it was in reference to the fact that they haven't had a bath in a couple of days. Guess I'll go fill the tub.

Grammar Lesson

A few weeks ago my oldest daughter gave us all a lesson in compound words at the dinner table. After explaining just what they were and giving us all some examples (base-ball, snow-flake, pin-wheel), my four-year-old decided to try her hand at a few.

"Noodle!" she cried, "That's one."

"Um, sweetie, not really..." I started.

"Yes it is, Mom! New, like not old, and dull, like booooring," she poked her chin up in the air, quite proud of herself. I was very impressed and decided to let her bask in her intellect rather than correcting her. My oldest, however, had no such instinct.

"That's not how it's spelled. Noodle is NOT a compound word," she spat out in that condescending way only a big sister can manage when she is talking to her younger sibling.

"Yeah, well I think you're a big poopyhead. Hey, that's a compound word, poopyhead!" now she was even more proud. I couldn't resist laughing which unfortunately sealed our fate for the rest of the evening.

"Bonehead," she popped up from her spot on the floor as she was coloring to announce, "That's one, too."

She continued to add to the list until it was time for bed. As I gently prodded her on toward jammies and brushing teeth, she continued to pepper me with her newfound cleverness.

"Mommy, you're a meaniepants. A stinkybutt. A chickenbrain," I tucked the covers around her, switched off her lamp, kissed her cheek and headed out the door.

"Goodnight, bonehead Mommy!" she called down the hall, chuckling to herself.

Inaugural Insult

"You are the meanest mom in the whole world! You are meaner than the meanest mom in all of Meanland!"

Spoken by: My youngest daughter. She's 4 and will likely be the source of most of the creative comments I post.

Prompted by: I can't specifically recall, but I think I had the audacity to ask her to put her shoes and socks on before she went outside to get in the car. She has a particular dislike for any kind of footwear.

My response: I actually did my best not to laugh, given that she was being very serious and I was sure she would get even more angry if I did.