Friday, May 20, 2011

The Extortionist

I'll admit it. I borrow money from my oldest kid. I can at least say that I always ask first and eventually remember to pay him back. I don't sneak the cash out of his wallet and then pretend I don't know what happened. This is because I am an honest person and am trying to set a good example by presenting myself as a great role model of good values and morals, and nothing to do with the fact that the kid counts his money more than once a day and could tell you what his nickel to quarter ratio is at any given time. I ask to borrow a couple bucks to take his little brother to the video store and his response is this, "sure Mom, you can have five dollars, but when you pay me back you'll need to give me twenty dollars." I stare him down. "okay, you can pay me $10". My eyes get bigger. "how about $11?...I'm running out of numbers here, Mom."

Apparently my credit score at the Motormouth Bank and Trust is really, really, REALLY low.

Friday, May 6, 2011

It's the little things.

Me: Hey G, today is military spouse day.

G: mmm'kay. I made you pancakes this morning.

Me: I get a sneaking suspicion that you didn't know that at the time.

G: (giving 'jazz hands') Happpy Military Spouses Day!!!

Me: That's better.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

My Morning

Conversations with Motormouth

Motormouth: Mom, I'm tired of this old PSP. I need a new one!
Me: (taking a deep breath) That is an incredibly spoiled, selfish sounding thing to say. Your's works fine, but if you have $130 feel free to buy another one. In the mean time, if it would help, I can take your's so you don't have to suffer playing an "old" one.


Motormouth: I have questions. What was that guy's name again? Where was he shot? Why?
Me: (another deep breath) Osama Bin Laden.
Motormouth: He was eeeeevil. In your face Bin Laden.
Me: NO! Don't be like that. Yes. He was very evil, but we should never be happy that someone is dead. You don't have to be sad, but don't be happy either.
Motormouth: So, where was he shot and why?
Me: Pakistan. In the Middle East. He was killed because he planned an organized the death of thousands on 9/11. And you just can't do that. America protects it's people whenever possible.
Motormouth: No, I meant WHERE was he shot?
Me: yeah, I know. I'm not getting into that with you because it doesn't matter. Dead is dead. You can't take it back.
Motormouth: Oh, I forgot to tell you. The carpet in the basement is all wet. I noticed a couple of days ago but didn't tell you because I needed to play with my Legos.
Me: (taking a deep breath and praying I can hold it until I pass out) THAT'S NOT SOMETHING YOU DON'T TELL SOMEONE.
Me: Where is your jacket, the bus will be here.
Motormouth: I dunno.
Me: it's not on the coat hook. Yesterday you came home and left your shoes and jacket on the floor in the middle of the kitchen. I told you to come pick them up and put them where they belong. Where do you think that is?
Motormouth: I really don't know!!
Me (still holding my breath, because it's working so well for me right now) Go. Check. Your. Room.
Motormouth: It's not in here.
Me: your bus is here.....Wait! Don't go out yet! (turning to grab a long sleeve sports jersey off the clean laundry stack. *BANG* front door slams shut and he runs outside and jumps on the bus. It's 43 degrees.)

I would just like to say that his jacket was spread out right in front of his door in his room. He must have been standing on it when he went in to look. The basement carpet is indeed wet and I don't know where it's coming from. Oh, and G just left for a couple days.