What’s In That Bag?

This morning at breakfast Jay noticed a rolled up brown bag on the kitchen table.  I knew that it contained a take-home portion of preacher cookies from Nana’s house the night before, but Jay had no idea.  I also knew that if the little people in my house discovered the bag’s contents, they would be gone before I got any.  So when he asked about it at breakfast with everyone around, I had to get a little creative….

Jay:  What’s in that bag?
Me:  Ummm….circular…..uhh……carbohydrate goodness….of the no bake variety.

You see, Chica can read now.  And when she really wants to, she can decode fairly well.  So my normal answer that has worked for the past six years, “C-O-O-K-I-E-S,” is no longer effective.  After a second or two he caught my drift, and we both had a good laugh over it.

AND they still don’t know we have cookies.  Score.

So we decided we should start preparing our responses for other common situations where the spelling strategy just won’t work.  Here’s the list we’ve got so far….

Jay:  A package came today.  What is it?
Me:  It’s a parcel to celebrate the delivery of our eldest offspring.

Jay:  Did you hear what Nana just asked?
Me:  No. What?
Jay:  She wants to know if we want to deposit our decedents in her care for the nocturnal hours.
Me:  Of course.

Jay:  What should we do for dinner tonight?
Me:  Why don’t we just patronize our favorite local establishment that specializes in the preparation of circular Italian specialties?

Me:  They’re driving me crazy.  What can they do?
Jay:  Can they retire to the subterranean chamber and make use of the cathode ray tube for an undetermined amount of time?

And my personal favorite….

Jay:  What are you doing after the kids are in bed?
Me:  Why don’t we go recline horizontally in the slumber chamber with minimal distance between us?
Jay:  Are you suggesting we do this with a lack of garments?
Me:  Affirmative.

So how about you, friends?  Have any questions that require vocabulary rich answers?  We’ll work on a reply for you if you don’t already have one.  Please share!

P.S. Jay wants to be sure you know that the rectangular prism in our subterranean chamber is so old that it does, in fact, still have a cathode ray tube.  Ok.  Whatever.

P.P.S.  I asked Jay if our last question in the list above was maybe a bit too much for my usually family-friendly blog.  His response?  “Naaaa…..they’ve got to know it’s happened at least twice.”  Man, that guy always makes me laugh.

 

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Dog Food (Or Why Not to Joke With an Almost Two Year Old)

About a week ago….
Jay:  Bubba….what do you want for breakfast?
Bubba:  No.
Jay:  Do you want Frosted Flakes?
Bubba:  No.
Jay:  Cheerios?
Bubba:  No.
Jay:  A bar?
Bubba:  NO.
Jay:  Dog food?
Bubba:  Yeah.
Jay:  ???
Bubba:  Dog foooood.  Bubba want dog food.
Jay:  Bubba, you can’t have dog food.
Bubba:  Doooooog fooooood.  Bubba want dog food.
Jay:  Bubba, Daddy was joking.  We don’t even have any dog food.  Let’s have a bar.
Great, dramatic tantrum ensues on the floor.  Whining, tears, kicking, etc.

The dog food has been brought up at least twice since that day, once by Daddy, once by Bubba.  Seems that neither of them has learned.

This morning…
Jay:  Bubba, what do you want for breakfast?
Bubba:  (Some inaudible whisper.)
Jay:  What Bubba?  What do you want for breakfast?
Bubba:  (Same inaudible whisper.)
Jay:  Bubba, I can’t hear you.  Tell Daddy what you want.
Bubba:  (This time in a barely audible whisper)….dog food.
Jay:  !!!

Jay:  Ok, Bubba, how about a dog food bar?
Bubba:  Yea!

Something tells me we’ll be eating dog food bars for quite a while in our house.

A Fraction of a Story

Dear Ruth,

Tell your sixth graders that this is why they have to learn how to convert improper fractions into mixed numbers.  Otherwise this will happen.

Sincerely,

Your Fourth Grade Math Teacher Friend

*************************************************************************************************

Me:  What do you want for breakfast?

Chica:  Mmmmm……cinnamon toast?  (Said with a question mark because this is a meal reserved for special days.)

Me:  Ok.  (It’s the last day of Spring Break.  What the hey?)  How many pieces do you want?

Chica:  (Thinks….)  Five.

Me:  Five?  No way.  Mommy couldn’t even eat five!  (Actually, I probably could, but I would totally regret it.)

Chica:  I can eat five.  I’m sure.

Me:  You’re not having five pieces of cinnamon toast.  How about two?

Chica:  Five.

Me:  The most I will fix you is three.  You can have three, two, one, or zero.

Chica:  But Daddy fixed me five before!

Me:  What?!?

Chica:  He did.

Me:  (The light bulb comes on!)  Ohhhhh…..you mean he fixed you five half pieces of cinnamon toast?

Chica:  Well, yeah.

Me:  Then sure, you can have five.

So we fix three.

three wholes

And she has five.

five halves

Best part about this math?

one half

I get one!  : )