Breakfast time.

Me: You guys already drank all the OJ?

DynaGirl: Mr. T finished it off last night.

Mr. T: There was only a little bit left.  It’s not like I drank the whole thing.  I will not be blamed for this crime.

I detect a new catchphrase.

 

Before swimming lessons.

BigHugs, to Goose: You smell like a bathing suit.

Well, duh.

 

Waiting for present time.  (BigHug’s birthday)

Me: You just have to learn to be patient.

BigHugs: But it takes too long for me to be a patient.

That’s a true statement.

 

Dinner time.  DynaGirl’s under the table.

Me:  What are you doing, DynaGirl?

Mr. T: She’s hiding away from all her fears and sorrows.  She’s emo.

DynaGirl grabs Mr. T’s leg.

Mr. T:  She’s got my leg!

That’s funny, usually Mr. T’s the one pulling legs.

 

Bedtime.

DynaGirl: Can I have a hug?

Me: I gave you a hug.

DG: No, you didn’t.

Me: Yes, I did.

DG: But I don’t feel the love from it.

I give her the look.

DG: I’m serious!

I give her the hug.

DG: One more, one more!

Me: No.

DG: But I still don’t feel the love.

Me: I have no more love to give.  Goodnight.

It’s not that I have a maximum capacity for love, but rather a minimum tolerance for stall tactics.

 

Mr. T’s back from scout camp.

Mr. T: Seriously, I think I have some kind of butt rash.

Me: That is not information that I need to know.

Mr. T: But you’re my mother.  You’re supposed to know everything about me.  Evverrryyythiiiiing.

I used to think so.  (And that sure was a long week without him.)