Kids Say
the Darndest Things….
A sampling
from 2017 (at least the ones I remembered to capture on Facebook) with this year's school pictures.
Me:
H: "There's so much sex."
"Show me what uh-mography looks like!" Zoë, barely five trying to chant "SHOW ME WHAT DEMOCRACY LOOKS LIKE!” at the Women’s March in Salt Lake at the Capitol.
Reading in the New Testament for our before-school scripture exploration, and we’re graced with the “whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart” verse. Which lead to Holden to asking the obvious question: “What’s adultery?”
From the top of my head: “Ummm, it’s having an
inappropriate intimate relationship with someone when you are married, or
having an intimate inappropriate relationship with someone else who is already
married….”
“Oh,” Holden says thoughtfully. “…like Bill Clinton -- or
Hamilton!”
Z: Hoe-den, what would you rather have--stay at home and
eat ice cream all day or play video games?
H: Play video games.
Z: Wrong.
Time passes as he's scrolling, scrolling, scrolling...
Then he yells down: "Mom, I thought Annie was
black?!?!"
It's a "water day" at preschool tomorrow, and as Z's organizing her clothes for school I suggest that instead of her "Star Wars" one piece swimmingsuit, she wear bikini bottoms and a rash guard for ease of using the restroom.
I grab a pair of her shorts, "Do you want some
shorts to cover your swimsuit?" I ask.
Z: "No, I just want to wear my swimsuit
bottoms."
Me:
Z: "What? My body, my choice."
After listen to a version of Aesop's "Boy Who Cried
Wolf," I asked Z for a recap and what she thought the moral of the story
was.
Earlier this week, we were discussing the value of
volunteer work and the benefits of service.
It was quickly obvious I had not properly explained the
value of community service to Zoë, because she began chiming in saying
"It's not fair that people don't get paid if they work hard!"
So
I tried again, "Zoë why do you think I do Pillows for Prisoners...Why would
Mommy spend her time trying to raise money to give it to someone else?"
And then my five-year-old daughter, with a cut-throat but
(almost) admirable capitalist caché (that I could only laugh at) replied:
"Well, it sounds like Mom is making a really poor choice."
It's evening and Zoë yawns. So I say, "Sounds like you need to go to
bed."
She gives me a look of disappointment, shakes her head
softly and says: "Mom, I already told you, when you yawn it means you're
tired. When I yawn it means 'more games and shows.'"
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