May 26, 2012

Lannis: Blackmail the Fifth

In the never-ending list of weirdo-crappit my kidlets say, here’s another blackmail post!

Previous installments are here, here, here, and here (Yes, we’re actually on the fifth installment, and I still have more unused goodies in The Blackmail File! Muahahaha!)

Basic overview—I have two kids, R and L (Right and Left? Heh.). They constantly spout the silly. I record it, and one day I’ll print the file and put it in their baby books (it’s currently 16 pages long... HA!). Also? I occasionally share it, because it’s just. that. snortastic.

Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.

October 2011

R [almost 6 years old] to L [4.5 years old]: We’re going to silent read. Have a seat.
L [settles on a page]: Once upon a time...
R: No, no, no! Read the pictures, not the words!
L: But I am reading the pictures. I can’t read the words yet!
R: But if you’re silent reading you need to be quiet. Zip it! [L opens his mouth.] ZIP IT! Pictures only! With your eyes! Not! Your! Mouth!

R [almost 6 years old]: OW! OW! OW!
Me: What happened?
R: I stepped on something sharp! It must have been a bug with a spike on its head.

November 2011

[I laughed until I snorted, and of course it was witnessed by the 4.5 year old.]
L [dead serious]: You need to say excuse me when you toot, Mommy.
Me: I didn’t... never mind.

L [4.5 years old, singing while sitting on the toilet]: Eat a zombie! Eat a zombie! Wait, wait, wait, eat a zombie!

[Evening. I put boys to bed, return downstairs, pour drink. Hear something. Go upstairs. Find L standing on bed, belting out a song to Pigger, his stuffed pig.]
Me: Hey! You're supposed to stay in bed and be quiet, remember?
L: But I was singing a song! I'll be quiet later!

[Watching Disney's Mulan, I absently sing along.]
L [flabbergasted]: Mommy, that's crazy! Your brain knows the words to the songs and you've never watched Mulan before!
[Yes. Yes, that's it. Exactly. ::snort::]

R [6 years old]: At lunch at school today I dropped yogurt down my shirt and said, “Disgraceful!”

December 2011

Me [to self]: Did I get my tea steeping?
L [4.5 years old]: Yes.
Me [to self]: Did I sort the laundry?
L: Yes.
Me [to L]: Did I turn the TV on?
L: Yes.
Me [looking at DVD player]: Did I press play already?
L: Yes. Why are you asking all these questions, Mom?
Me [working my shoulder, realizing it finally isn't bugging me—I’d had a knot for days.]: That's because Mommy's muscle relaxants are working. I think we're going to have a lazy day today.
L [nods, completely serious]: And I think we're going to have a forgetful day...

[In passing, I pat my 6 year old’s back.]
R [outraged]: Don’t pet me, I’m not a cat!

L [playing with action figures]: Hey, do the bad guys share?
R: No. That’s part of what makes you a bad guy. You’re not good at sharing.

R [addressing L]: Please don’t repeat and repeat and repeat ad nauseam...
[Aw, bless!]

L [4.5 years old, singing]:
Bunnies, bunnies, bunnies!
Bunnies dance!
Bunnies, bunnies, bunnies...
Dancing bunnies!
Dance, bunnies, dance!
Just dance, bunnies, dance!
I’ll dance, too, of course I do!
Get the rope,
get the flames,
just dance bunnies, dance!
Or nobody will like you!
Save me.

[An exchange between my cousin Mandy and I, and another snippet of L, our Casanova, in action at 4.5 years old...]
Mandy: So this morning, L was sitting really close to me. He leaned his head on my shoulder, and told me my arm was hard. He then helped me lift it so I could put my arm around him and he could snuggle in closer. You are so in trouble.
Me: Yep. I know. And he’s self-taught, too. Can you tell?

[December 31st 2011]
Me: Today is the last day of the year!
R [6 years old]: And then we die?
Me [shocked]: NO! Then it’s the next year! Don’t you worry about dying, dying is an grown up thing to worry about.
R: Yeah. Because when you’re grown up you die.
Me: O_o

January 2012

R [6 years old]: If you eat too much cheese you turn into a...?
L [4.5 years old]: Cow.
R: Yes. If you eat too much mustard and relish you turn into a...?
L: Deer.
R: Yes. If you eat too many pancakes you turn into a...?
L: Manikin.
R: Wrong. You turn into someone who looks like a manikin.

R [addressing L]: Well I do not want to talk to you, my mouth is already getting dry.

February 2012

L [4.5 years old, singing]
How could I be glasses?
How can I be glasses?
I’ve never been glasses be-fooooore!
Never see you
Never see my heart
Never see you through my glasses be-foooore!

[My friend Sarah is over, and it’s been snowing heavily.]
R [6 years old, remarks on snow out window]: I HATE snow. And this snow is so bad there are skeletons coming out of the ground, and flying saucers coming out of the sky! THAT'S how bad it is.
[Sarah and I blink and look at each other.]
Sarah: This is going online later, isn't it?
Me: Oh yeah.

March 2012

L [4.5 year old]: Daddy, when will I be a superhero?
Mr Lannis: Probably not until you're in your twenties.
L: When you die you turn into dirt.
Mr Lannis: Yeah, that's about right.

And lastly...

Me: Guess what we're having for dinner?!
R [6 years old]: I dunno. A kick in the pants?

[This is what you get for feeding your children sarcasm with every meal...]

Occasional poster at The Mrs, I'm Lannis - or Leslie, depending on which circles you're swimming. A while ago I decided that I don't care anymore, hence my general standards for life are lower than The Mrs' (but she still loves me.) [Editor: I do]

I live in a small town with my favourite people: my husband, Mr Lannis, and our two boys, along with two cats and one hamster.

If you follow me on Twitter, you might witness my issues with linear thought, road rage, spending more money on food than books, and potty mouth. Be warned.