Tag Archives: daddy

She’s Got A Million Of ‘Em

I thought the Page-a-day calendar idea may have been a stretch, but as I log more of Max’s one-liners, I think my friend Karyn may have really been on to something.

“Uncle Bubba is a cool police officer.  I want to go to work with him on Bring Your Uncle’s Grandkids To Work Day.”

“I wonder what Isaac will look like when he’s older. Probably a smart phone can figure that out.”   Is there an app for that?

“Isaac, today is movie day! We are going to see Ice Age: Cotton Little Drift!”
“Mom you almost dropped my bag from the dentist and I almost dropped my juice box. You should so post that.” (Going to be screening future posts for mundane-ness. Thanks, Max.)
Max: “You know Ohio where they speak that Ohio language?” Gracie: “She’s watching Lilo and Stitch. I’m pretty sure she means Hawaii. “
“Talking is really easy…unless you’re a skeleton. “
“It would be weird if you were allergic to your favorite song.”
“I don’t understand why birds poop on cars. They can hold it til they get home!”
“Mom, where’s my water bottle? I wanna start hibernating.”
Max, as she scrubbed her ears and played air guitar to a Foreigner song in the tub: ” When Isaac took off and I had to catch him, I was sweating like slime on a snail’s butt.”
The justice system as seen by Max : “People keep getting arrested on purpose. The police are arresting them on PURPOSE!”
“Driving a car looks easy but its not. You have to try really hard not to get lost and have to live on the side of the road.”
“Mom, I have a little bit gooder memory than you, except when it goes to fast mode. “
“The sun and the moon are connected to each other and they are both connected to the countries. What’s the planet that rhymes with Saturday?” Saturn. “What’s the hottest planet on Earth?” The hottest planet is Mercury. “That’s right, Murmmering.”
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Beg Your Pardon

It has been the common experience in our house that Max understands what people say in a very unique and usually incorrect way.   Daddy and I have spent countless hours correcting her only to have her insist she heard us her way.  (As a side note, I should add that she learned from the best of them.  Daddy and I are famous for doing this with each other, too.)

This particular car ride was a convoluted mess all the way around.

“I smell Cheez-Its,” declared Max out of left field in the back seat.

“How do you know what Jesus smells like?” asked Daddy.

Cheez-Its!” said Max loudly and with decided emphasis.

Daddy shook his head.  “I don’t think Jesus smells like Cheez-Its.”

photo credit: Wikipedia

Chee-Toes

Things always get interesting when Daddy is on duty with Max.  Remember Sharpie?….

As I got off the phone with Daddy telling him I was on my way home from the grocery store, I hear:

“No, Bethany, you can NOT eat cheese balls with your toes.”

Mistaken Identity

When Max does not have her brother and sister to pester in the back seat of the car, she is forced to entertain herself in other ways.  This time, she chose to sing.  What started as freestyle scatting eventually turned into a two note chant of “Mag-nooooo-lia.  Mag-noooo-lia.”

She sang, rather chanted, for a bit, then paused.  “I love that name.”  Pause.  “Can we change my name to Magnolia?”

Daddy lost it.  Through the laughter he says, “How did I know she was about to say that?”

“Because you’re as weird as she is,” I answer honestly.

Max has continued her chant.  “Mag-nooo-lia.  Mag-noooo-lia.”

“We can call you Magnolia if you want, Bethany,” I offer.

“No, I don’t want to be Magnolia.  I wanna be Ed.”  Then, Max, Magnolia, or Ed begins chanting once again all the way home.

 

 

Vice Squad

On our way home from dinner, Daddy decided to stop by the local wine and spirits shop.  It is a beautiful high end store in a well to do area of town.  We park and Daddy runs in while I wait with Max in the car.

“Is this the lik-er store?” Max asks in her nasal Tennessee twang.

“Yep, it’s the liquor store,” I answer.

“Why does Daddy go to the lik-er store all the time?”

“I have no idea, sweetie.”

“Well, I will have to investigate that at school!” Max declares.

Great.  That will be fabulous.  So, in her head, Daddy goes to the lik-er store all the time and mommy is gonna get nailed for drinking coffee and driving.

Not So Ladylike

Our polite Red Lobster waitress, Grace, was taking the last of our dishes away.  All evening, she had tried to coax a few words from the randomly quiet Max to no avail.  All Max was interested in was getting back home as quickly as possible to play with her tool truck toy.

Grace gave it one final try: “Can I get you ladies any desert?”

Max was uncharacteristically unenthusiastic.  “Um, no, we are not ‘ladies,’” she says flatly.

Grace, trying not to let her amusement show, says, “Well, then, what would you like to be called?”

I am a kid and she (pointing to me) is a mom.  We are not ladies.”

As we walked out the door, Max spots Grace at the hostess podium and tosses over her shoulder: “Bye, Lady.”  Well, at least one of us is a lady.

A Lion By Any Other Name…

You never know how a conversation between Max and Daddy will go.  For this reason, I usually just sit back and listen.  This time was no different.  In the car, after the trip that resulted in the acquisition of the Ironman mask, this is the conversation:

Max: “When I am a lion for Halloween, do you know what my name will be, Daddy?”

Daddy:  “No, what?”

Max:  “When I’m a lion, my name will be Ironman!”

Daddy (unphased):  “So, if you had an Ironman costume, would your name be Simba?”

Max:  “No, Daddy.  That would be silly.”

Of course it would.