Thing 2: "Do you know what howiday it is, Mommy?"
Me: "uh."
Thing 2: "It's COWUMBUS Day, Mommy, and I got to make one of his ships!"
Me: "Did you make any of the Indians that got massacred because of his discovery?"
Thing 2: "No, Mommy, I wan out of time."
...She ran out of time.
And it's not even halfway through the school year yet.
--
Thing 2: (dramatic sigh) "Hi Mama. Apparently I'm naked."
(minute later, naked Thing runs into living room)
Thing 2: "Whoa, this is scaring me!"
She's holding up two matching pairs of underwear.
Me: "Your panties are scaring you?"
Thing 2: "YES, cuz they're the same! Oh. My. GOD! I don't believe it!"
Indeed.
Veni, Vidi, Ventus --
The randomly chaotic and crafty scribblings of a deranged, wannabe artist allowed too many colours in her Crayon box.
Surgeon General's Warning: Some content of "From Pooka's Crayon" may not be suitable for: work, blue-haired little old ladies, the politically-correct, rabid moonbats, uptight mothers, priests, chronic idiots, insurance claims agents, Democrats, children, small furry quadropeds from Alpha Centauri, or your sanity.
The randomly chaotic and crafty scribblings of a deranged, wannabe artist allowed too many colours in her Crayon box.
Surgeon General's Warning: Some content of "From Pooka's Crayon" may not be suitable for: work, blue-haired little old ladies, the politically-correct, rabid moonbats, uptight mothers, priests, chronic idiots, insurance claims agents, Democrats, children, small furry quadropeds from Alpha Centauri, or your sanity.
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