February 10, 2012

The Conversation That Got Away From Me

The following is a replay of a conversation I had in the car with my children last night.  Keep in mind that Sadie is 8 and Noah is 5 and they are in that stage where they are obsessed with body parts.  My unsaid thoughts are in italics:

Sadie:  Mom, when I adopt my kids when I'm a grown up, if they don't already have names, I'm going to name them ZaKiya, Nina and Amber.

Me:  Those are very nice names.  So you want to adopt 3 little girls?

Sadie:  Yes.  One will be from China, one from Congo, and the other one from the United States.

Me:  I think that sounds like a wonderful plan.

Sadie: And I want to stay at home and take care of my kids like you do.

Me:  Well, I think that you will be a very good mommy one day.

Sadie:  But I am NOT getting married.  I'm just going to have someone that I keep around to help me with money.  (Oh dear God.  My baby wants a sugar daddy.)

Me:  Hmmm... well, maybe if you don't want to get married, and you have three children, maybe you should think about getting a job so that you can make your own money.

Sadie:  Oh.  Okay.  I guess I'll get a job writing a blog.  (Oh, baby.  That does NOT pay the mortgage!)  I'm just NOT getting married.  NO WAY!

Me:  You don't have to get married if you don't want to!  But why don't you want to get married one day?

Sadie:  Because then I would have to look at my husband's wiener. (Oh snap.  Shoot me now. At least all she thinks you have to do with it is look at it.)

Noah:  (dies in a fit of laughter)  Sadie said wiener!  Who do you think has the biggest wiener? 

Me:  Noah! (do boys ever stop thinking about this?)

Noah:  I mean wiener dog!  Who do you think has the biggest wiener dog?!?!

Sadie:  See mom?  That's why I don't want to get married!

Noah:  Mom?  Dad says that we can't say butt hole. 

Me:  He did?

Noah:  Yeah.  I said, 'fill the butthole' and dad said we couldn't say that.  (Oh Lord, will we ever get home? What does he think you are supposed to fill it with? Where do they come up with this stuff. Do not laugh. Do not laugh. Do not laugh.)

Me:  Dad is right.  That is very rude to say to someone.

Noah:  What about gas hole.  Can I say gas hole? 

Me:  It's kind of the same thing.  Maybe we shouldn't say that one either, okay?

Noah:  What about gasolinie.

Me:  I guess gasolinie is okay. 

Sadie:  (laughing)  Fill the gasolinie. Fill the gasolinie! 

Noah:  Fill the gasolinie.  Fill the gasolinie!

And we all erupt in hysterical laughter.  And this, dear friends, is how a conversation about adoption can snowball right out of control...

The Peanut Gallery


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