Me:  Hamburgers.  Will you check the pantry for some buns?

Maria (looking in the pantry):  We don’t have any.

Me:  Shoot.  Call Dad, then, and ask him to pick some up.  He went to get the car (from the repair place).

Maria (taking my phone and walking into my bedroom for privacy):  Okay!

~Minutes Later~

Maria:  Dad left his phone here.  (She heard it ring when she tried to call.)  But, I left a message…  Oh!  Hahahaha.  I guess that was dumb…

Me:  …

Maria:  By the way, he got a call.

Me: …

Maria:  Oh!  (Doubling over in laughter) I guess that was me!  Hahahahahahahahaha.

Sheesh.  And?  Turns out we did have buns in the pantry.

Kids.

I gave her what I thought was a pretty fair definition, but in all seriousness, I’m pretty sure it means, “birthed by Dan and Susan H.”

Just call them “The Comeback Kids.” Because for EVERYthing, they have a comeback. Always. And it is driving me insane.

This morning, for example, one of my sweeties was nasty to another of my sweeties and I took the opportunity to turn it into a teaching moment.  “You need to be nice to each other.  You’re family.  You need to treat each other with respect.  Nothing is more important than your family.”

“Oh, yeah?” said Luke.  “What about GOD?”

“Well… ” I started.

“What about food?” Maria demanded.  “You have to have food to live.”

And, suddenly my teaching moment morphed into a trump contest among siblings.

I would pay a LOT of money for a “silent button!”

We were talking about the wedding last night at dinner and everyone was excited. Except for Sam. “I don’t want to go to the wedding!!!” He told us. “What? Why not?” I asked. “There will be food and dancing and CAKE!”

“I don’t want cake,” he said with tears rolling down his face.

“You don’t want cake?!?”

“If there’s cake, it’s pizza for dinner and I HATE pizza,” he said as he burst out into full sobbing.

Hahahahaha. The limited experience of little kids. Obviously, when he thinks of cake, he thinks of birthdays. And, most birthdays he attends are pizza parties.

I did my best to reassure him that he would NOT be forced to eat pizza at the wedding.

Maria:  Mom.  Where’s the Halloween candy?

Me:  It’s in the lazy-susan.

Maria:  Where? (Despite having two of these types of cabinets, I don’t think the kids know them by name.)

Me:  In the lazy-susan.  (Not helping her out here, as she doesn’t really need the candy.)

Maria (with a perplexed look on her face):  You mean you ate it all????

This morning, Andrew and I helped out in the preschool classroom.  Following the Indian theme, we helped the kids make fringed outfits out of pillow cases, which they then decorated with a variety of related (and totally unrelated) pictures.  I then wrote their “Indian name” on the back.  That was the best part – helping the kids come up with their Indian names.  For most, I had them choose a favorite creature and then we attached an action word.  Best one?  (No, it wasn’t Sam’s “Hibernating Bear.”)  How do you like “Pollinating Butterfly”?  Awesome, isn’t it?  That little girl clearly spends time watching the Science Channel.  “Spitting Goat” was a close second.

Anyhow, as I drove Luke and Sam home from school, the discussion was focused on Indians.  Somewhere between tomahawks and bear claws, Luke asked me how a person becomes an Indian. I explained to him that you are born an Indian, you can’t just become one.  “Then where did they come from?” He asked.  But before I could figure out how to answer, he continued, “Somebody had to go out into the woods and start being an Indian!”

Well, I guess he’s right.  But, try to wrap your brain around that one… Who was the first actual Indian?  How did they come to be such?  I mean, did a group of Adam and Eve’s ancestors simply divide themselves up and one group said, “We’ll stay here and keep being us, while you all go out into the woods (or plains or whatever) and start being Indians.

Interesting.  No?

Jack pondered the information for a moment.  Then exclaimed, “So!  It’s like The Elderly Express!”

So, this morning, as I still lay in bed, Sam came to me and reminded me that we still need to get a present.

“I know,” I said.  “I was just thinking about that.  What do you think we should get?  Remember, she’s a girl.”

“Yeah,” said Sam.  “So we can’t get her a dragon.  But (big smile) we could get her a girl dragon… a girly one!  YEAH!”

“Ummmm…” I replied.  “Let’s go ask Maria what she thinks we should get.”

(Nothing)

Sam:  Cheerio!!  Get. The. Ball!

(Nada)

Sam:  Don’t make me come down there!

Me: Ummmm… ’cause they’re always there?

Thankfully he was looking at his, not mine, when he said this.

He came up to me and asked, “Mom?  One day can we take a blimp to South America?”

Me:  “Ummmmmm…. No.”

I hate to be a party pooper, but I don’t want him planning on it, ya know?  Where, or where does a 5-year-old come up with an idea like this?