After seeing Salty try to plug in the moonbounce, I told Fluffs:
Me: Don’t let him touch the cord! He could get electrocuted. That’s so dangerous.
Fluffy: I didn’t know that could electric-fry him. I don’t want him to get electric-fried.
Me: Are you poopy?
Salty: I’m not poopy.
Me: Yes, you are.
Salty: I’m not poopy! No fresh diaper!
Me: (Opening diaper) You are poopy. See?
Salty: That’s chocolate.
Me: It’s not chocolate; it’s poop.
Salty: (Starting to cry) That’s chocolate. I’m not poopy. It’s chocolate!
Me: Even if you are pooping pure chocolate, I still have to clean it up.
Fluffy’s chores before she can play anything in the evening with Daddy are to clean her room, get into pj’s, and pick up the playroom. Usually we help with most of these. This Tuesday, after I had basically cleaned her room while she sat on the floor and played with dolls, I said:
Me: Okay, now you have to pick up the playroom. You’ve got to do something by yourself tonight.
Fluffy: Helping others is what friends do for friends, not just make them do it by themselves.
Me: I know. That’s why I just helped you clean up your room.
Fluffy: You know, God didn’t send us here just so we could do our blogs!
Fluffy catching a glimpse of a scene from Madmen with Don Draper sitting alone on the couch in his office in the dark.
Fluffy: How can he not be happy with a house that big?
Fluffy: He has all that space, and he’s not happy.
Me: Food for thought.
Happy Thanksgiving, everybody! I’ll see you Monday. And I may have something to report about the teardown process because just when you thought our house could not possibly get any uglier…they’ve torn off most of the siding.
All this place needs to turn it into a proper horror movie is an ominous soundtrack.