The Wii Dick

Wyatt: "MOM! I need a dick NOW! Where's the dick? The Wii won't work without the dick! Hurry!"

Me (barely able to muster a response): "WHAT??!"

Wyatt: "The Wii screen is black! I'm reading it and it says we need the Toy Story dick! I need help!"

Me: "Wyatt, that says disc. DISC. DISC! You need the Toy Story DISC!"

Wyatt: "Oh... I know where that is. Thanks mom!"

Does he know where my xanax is? Because after my six year old ran around the house screaming the word dick I think I might need it. I'm happy he's learning to read; I think I'd be happier if he were better at it.

The Pedophile Song

I'm still working on finals, so though I have longer, funnier stories in the works (cough Dieffen-vacation cough) they have to wait until next week. But sometimes things happen that just deserve a blog post, even if it is a short one...

Last night we had to make a family Costco run, which is always an adventure with both kids. I usually end up being a stressed sample chauffeur and leave without my bulk laundry detergent and toilet paper. However, we were out of milk, so off to Costco we went. The boys weren't *too* terrible because we bribed them with pizza. However, at the check stand they were freaking out, screaming for pizza, and airing family dirty laundry (Levi: "My mom put a table on the sidewalk because she wants someone to steal it!"). I jokingly asked the checker if he wanted one of the kids for free, and he replied, "Sure!" So when we got home, I just had to talk about it...

Me (to Erich): "What young guy wants a kid? He didn't sound like he was kidding. All I kept thinking was that he was probably a pedophile."

Erich: "SERIOUSLY, Jen? *That's* what you were thinking?! I'm pretty sure that the Costco guy isn't a pedophile..."

Me: "You don't know that. I'm betting he's a pedophile... Everyone is a pedophile until proven otherwise."

Levi: "Haha! Pedophile! Pedophile!" (At this point I notice the kids are within earshot...)


Wyatt: "Ped-o-phile! Ped-o-phile!"

Erich: "Look! See what you did!"

Wyatt and Levi (singing): "Ped-o-phile, ped-o-phile, PED-O-PHILE...."

Erich: "The kids are singing a pedophile song. Great."

Me: "Well, awareness is a good thing, right?"

And the kids kept singing.... How was I supposed to know they'd pick *that* word to latch on to and sing?? Maybe we can add some words and market it as a stranger danger song...

Burgermeister Meisterburger

My family recently took a short vacation to Colorado to take the kids on the Polar Express. The events of this trip are most definitely a blog post, but it deserves more time than I can give it today. I need to make sure that my words can do justice to the hilarity that was our Durango vacation. They probably won't,  but I'm going to work on it anyways, include pictures, and it is coming soon. Stay tuned. (Part of me is waiting to see if anywhere in Durango publishes an article rejoicing that we did in fact leave Durango and that our Dieffen-reign of terror on the small town has ended, because that would be pretty sweet to include in the blog).

Until then, though, we're busy watching claymation Christmas movies over here, because what is Christmas without Heat Miser? The boys were having a conversation about "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" and I really have to share.

Levi: "Wyatt, was it Burgermesiter's problem? Outlawing toys? That's seriously not cool."

Wyatt: "Well Levi, his name is Burgermeister Meisterburger. I mean, think about it."

Wyatt has a point.

Caffeine

Caffeine makes me sell things on Craigslist and ebay, apparently (coffee + coke = pure motivation). I get all worked up and motivated to finally take pictures and list the giant piles of crap that I should sell rather than trash (which is what I was verging on doing). Coffee and two coke zeros later I'm uploading photos and returning emails.

However, three important things happened today that make me think maybe I should take a break from caffeine (and liquidating our junk). First, I sent this email to a prospective buyer:

Me: "So, you can buy this DVD player but you have to meet me at a Starbucks because it is like a public place and junk. Also, I need some coffee, so I can kill lots of birds with one DVD player. So I'll see you in a bit, and please don't be a serial killer/rapist/criminal of some sort. K?"`

Second, I left this voice mail for my husband:

 Me: "Hi, honey. I think I just sold your DVD player for 4 lbs of Starbucks Christmas blend. I love you, call me later."

(After selling said DVD player, I went in to Starbucks and they were having a 2 for 1 sale. Thus, I spent all of the earnings on Christmas blend. I think this was a totally reasonable thing to do).

Third, I totally wrapped a paintball gun up in trash bags and paper towels at the post office and then stuck it in a box. Because I'm not making money if I spend tons on packaging materials, right? And I can't have the paintball gun slamming around in the box because then the post office will think I'm shipping a fire arm. So now some kid in Missouri is going to open the box and be confused as to why his paintball gun is wrapped in trash bags and paper towels. Sorry, kid. It is because I had a lot of caffeine today. That's why. 

In conclusion, I should cut down in caffeine. But now I have 4 lbs of Christmas blend. It's a vicious cycle...

The Language Barrier

I am notorious for not remembering where I park. Fortunately, my oldest child is essentially a human GPS and remembers odd things like this. I try to bring him with me as often as I can to places such as Target and Costco to save myself that 10 minutes I usually spend wandering around, swearing, and contemplating reporting my car stolen.

But today he let me down.

Leaving Wal-Mart I asked my trusty Garmin child which aisle our car was down, and he led us astray. We spent a good 10 minutes wandering around aisles searching for our car. Finally we happened upon our car, and not a moment too soon.

Me: "What gives, Wyatt?"

Wyatt: "I pointed to the car, mom."

Me: "No, you didn't. You pointed to a random direction and led us on a wild SUV chase."

Wyatt: "No, I pointed at the car. You just didn't get it."

Me: "How could I misunderstand a point, Wyatt? Seriously?!"

Wyatt: "Well, probably because I pointed in Spanish. I bet you don't speak Spanish, do you mom?"