Decorating for Mr. T’s birthday. (Yeah, this one’s old, but I just found the little scrap of paper I’d written it on.)
BigHugs: You put a person on Mr. T’s birthday paper?
Me: Yes. That’s Chuck Norris. Can you say Chuck Norris?
BigHugs: Chuck Norris. I don’t like Chuck Norris. I like pigs the best. I don’t like horses or chickens or cows…
Me: Or Chuck Norrises?
To each her own, I guess.
Overheard between Goose and DynaGirl.
Goose: You’re the weirdest person in the world.
DynaGirl: I’m not the weirdest person. I’m exciting. And funny. And awesome.
Later that day.
Goose, to me (for some reason I can no longer recall): You’re the creepiest person in the world.
Me: I’m not creepy. I’m exciting. And funny. And awesome.
DynaGirl: Hey, you stole that from me!
Gees—everything’s proprietary material around here!
Around the house.
Mr. T, narrating: I’m opening the fridge. Now I’m pulling out the juice. Now I’m pouring the juice. Now I’m drinking my juice. Now I’m opening the fridge again. Now I’m putting away the juice. Now I’m closing the fridge. I like narrating everything I do. It’s fun.
Goose: Everything you do is extra weird.
Mr. T, ironically: That makes me feel warm inside.
Goose is like the freak police around here lately.
Overheard between Mr. T and Goose.
Mr. T, shaking his head at something goofy Goose is doing: You’re just trying to get on mom’s blog. Fame corrupts people.
Mr. T’s wisdom knows no bounds.