My children are particularly adept at calling it like they see it. Why, just yesterday my five year old daughter complimented my knees, claiming they were spiky, just like a spider’s legs. And soft and squishy, too. (The Thighmaster might have done wonders for Susanne Somers, but then again, she didn’t give birth to six little prophets in 7 years, either.)

Well, I’m conserving razors, okay? Do you know how many greenhouse gases float into the atmosphere, causing polar bears to drown, in the production of one little razor? I don’t either, but I bet it’s a lot. Also, I think the metal would be put to a better use if we sent it to China, or possibly North Korea, for the government to use in building factories that will simultaneously continue to crush the souls of the peasantry and take American jobs. This will give Americans more time for important activities such as voting for out Idols and making heroes out of wife cheaters such as Lance Armstrong and Brad Pitt. They do make America great, after all.

My 3 year old son inquires, genuinely puzzled, “Why are you being so nice to us?”. I tried to explain about how in my twilight years, how he and his siblings would be choosing my nursing home. I also put in a quick plug for one with extensive spa amenities, including chocolate facials and backwaxing. (Hey, a lot can happen to a gal’s body in 50 years’ time. I have to be prepared for all possible outcomes.) Apparently misunderstanding in his precocious naivete, he begged for an Oreo cookie and proceeded to give himself a chocolate facial.

My eldest is also given to musings, such as, “How do you fit your big head in that little sink”, upon seeing me wash my hair at the bathroom vanity. I have to use the bathroom vanity, as my personal vanity diappeared about the time he started talking.

See what I did there, that cute play on words! Alas, it seems that none of my children have inherited my Shakespearean sense of humor, and find my puns and wordplay insufferable. I would caution them, as they ask in childish simplicity, “If no one laughs at your jokes, why do you think you’re funny?” - just you wait until we embark on our 25 hour drive to South Carolina! I’ll get you, my pretties!

Mama Says:

If you can't say something nice, don't say nothin' at all.