Shadow Game is no fun on D

DAUGHTER: My teacher doesn't like it when I repeat what she says.

ME: Yeah, that is pretty annoying.

DAUGHTER: Yeah, that is pretty annoying.

So I'm gonna have to drive 45 mins to give her Tylenol?

(This conversation took place over the phone after I'd received a call from Daughter's school that she had 101.5 fever and someone needed to pick her up.)

HUSBAND: I picked her up. She's on the sofa watching TV.

ME: Did you give her Tylenol or Motrin?

HUSBAND: No. I asked her if she wanted any and she said "No."

ME: I'm on my way home.

Will this be on the test?

DAUGHTER: [to Wawa Associate] Did you know that "wawa" is the indian word for "goose?" That's why there's a goose on the sign.

So Inappropriate I HAVE to...

DAUGHTER: Why do you have hair on your butt?

ME: I don't know. Everyone gets it when they grow up.

DAUGHTER: Will I have a hairy butt?

ME: Yes.

DAUGHTER: When I'm sixteen.

ME: Probably.

DAUGHTER: Why don't you shave your hairy butt?

ME: I don't know. [But I'm thinking to myself: "I used to have time to take care of that. But now I spend most of my 'free' time having these conversations with a four-year-old."]

I'm Pretty Sure I Only Have One Kid

DAUGHTER'S TEACHER: I didn't know Daughter has two brothers.

ME: She doesn't.

TEACHER: Really? She spent all day telling me all about them.

Holy S#@t!

Doggie Doodle woke me up at 12:51 this morning. I know the exact time because I checked the oven clock as I staggered to open the back door and let her out. This is our usual routine. She gets so worked up she paws my head to wake me up (sometimes a sloppy kiss works well, too). I never understand why it is so urgent for her to go out. This morning might provide a little insight as to why she is so excited to venture out into the dark yard.

So things seemed to be going as they normally do: Me- stumbling almost blindly through the house -and Doggie Doodle- running in circles around me until we get to the back door. Then things went terribly awry. I turned on the light, opened the door, and came face-to-face with:

about six INCHES away from me! Omigod, just looking at this picture now is giving me chills. Gross! They are so GROSS! RED EYES. POINTY SNOUT. SLIMY TAIL. Blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh.

So what did I do, you ask? I screamed and tried to slam the door shut. Doggie Doodle, though, was not about to miss out on this. How her fat gut fit through the rapidly closing door, I do not know. I can only guess that the prospect of a late night Snack O'Possum gave her temporary wonder dog speed. What could I do then? I was not about to run into the possum-infested back yard to drag Doggie Doodle back to the house. I decided the best thing to do was go back to bed and let the dog fend for herself.

Not as easy as it sounds. When I got back into bed, my heart was racing. The evil possum face kept flashing in my mind and I couldn't get back to sleep. After fifteen minutes I decided I had to save the dog. I slowly approached the back door. Heart racing. Dry mouth. Palms sweating. Gradually I lifted my eyes to the window and looked out. The dog was running around the deck with her nose down. I opened the door and dragged her in. "Doogie Doodle," I said "Why would the possum run under the deck where you are? Didn't you go out into the yard to find it?!?!?!" I love her, but she missed something in the hunting gene area. She knows she's supposed to chase other animals, but doesn't know what she should do once she catches up to them.

At least I understand her desperation to go out every night. Kind of.

The moral of my story: Look before you open.

The Hits Just Keep on Coming

DAUGHTER: I didn't take a nap at school today because I didn't have my bink.

ME: You don't need it. You're too big for-

DAUGHTER: Boring!!! Wrong Answer!!!!