Some of my favorite moments with family over Christmas:
Emma and Lily looking out the window of the train as we come to a particularly graffitied area:
Emma: Don't read that stuff, Lily, it's bad.
Lily: I can't read dat. Is it Yapanese?
Seeing that Grandma has graduated from merely using Post-it notes for everything imaginable to meticulously cutting the Post-its around her writing so she can now get approximately 40 notes from a single Post-it.
LeeAnn: Cheeseball!
Playing Go Fish:
Lily: Karen, do you have a koala?
Karen: Go fish.
Lily (holding her hand out): You lyin'!
Lily using Grandma's bathroom: (happily) This is where Daddy went potty when he was a little boy. (reconsidering) But I won't talk about dat. Pee is not funny.
Janet: Divide and conquer!
Samuel and Marie arguing about Samuel's food choices:
Marie: Licking broccoli occasionally does not count as eating vegetables!
Lily is so terrified of automatic flushing toilets that she will hop up midstream to avoid going down with the flow.
LeeAnn: Cheeseball!
Werewolves of Miller's Hollow.
Nauvoo Missionary: The bricks get their coloring from iron oxide...
Jacob: YESSS!!!
Watching the missionary at the Nauvoo blacksmith's make a little horseshoe.
Jacob: Now you have to try to find a horse that it fits on.
Nauvoo Missionary: You just stole my joke.
Do you remember that time it took us four hours to get home from Nauvoo?
Laura (yelling at the men in the other car after losing them for half an hour): Stay close to us, 136 takes some odd turns up...
Tom (being particularly snarky): We'll just stay on 136!
45 seconds down the road.
Laura: They're going to make a wrong turn again, I know it.
45.6 seconds down the road...
2 comments:
My favorite is your excellent use of the word snarky.
And that they did indeed miss the very first odd turn less than a minute after the snarkiness.
If you drape some tp over the sensor it won't flush until you're ready. My oldest freaks out about them. If it flushes while she's going she'll just hop up and pee all over herself.
Post a Comment