Word Canoodling for your mind

Repartee of my Progeny


It goes without saying that your child will definitely pick up your mannerisms, characteristics, traits and values as they grow in your home. After all they are surrounded by your incessant nagging about cleaning their rooms, picking up after themselves and feeding the zoo in your living room. What we may not be aware of, is the same child’s ability to produce certain quick witted responses and out of the blue versions of their own design. Needless to say, Tina and I have realized from a long time ago that our daughter Drew would be a handful later in life; she has both her mother’s quick wit and good looks, and keeps up with her father’s sarcasm and false explanations of “why the sky is blue” better than any one of her older siblings.

Some of the events that take place in our meager lives have to be seen to be believed, but others are so clear cut and funny, we can’t wait to share with our family and friends. Case in point, a few of Drew’s more memorable moments of late:

Example the first

After picking Drew up after work, we are in a rush to meet her mom for her dinner break. Tina has asked that we provide her with a certain frozen confection en route so we stop to pick one up. I ask Drew if she’s hungry for dinner and she says “McDonald’s” like it’s a pre-programmed response put in all our kids. As we’re finishing up the order for said frozen confection, this is the dialog that ensues;

Me: Are you hungry too baby girl?

Drew: I could eat. McDonald’s.

Me: MMM’kay. I will have to get some cash from mom when we get to her work. I’ve only got a few bucks on me.

Drew: What if mom doesn’t have any money?

Me: Then I will have to kick her butt.

Drew: Great!! Dinner, Ice Cream AND a show…

Example the second

Not too long after that little bit of wit, we were on our way to meet mom for yet another dinner break rendezvous. This time, I nearly get my butt handed to me by Conan the Destroyer. As we get out of the car in the parking lot, a well endowed young lady with a halter top to her midriff and a very, very short skirt come bouncing (literally) out of the store. Without missing a beat, Drew whistles a fox call at the girl who politely smiles in our direction.

The whistle alone was embarrassing enough, especially as it echoed off the surrounding walls and cars in the parking lot for what seemed like an eternity. What came next was one of the most horrifying moments of my life. The massive hulking 300+ pound meat bag that followed the young lady was also looking in our general direction, but he definitely was not smiling. He grimaced and flexed all 1000 bicep muscles in his two arms as if to tell me, “You’re pressing your luck dude”, if he could have actually formed a whole coherent sentence that is. I held my breath as we rushed into the store behind them and never looked back. I tried explaining to Drew that she nearly got me killed, but what she thought was a nice complement wasn’t sinking in as a life threatening issue for her dad.

We finally came to an understanding that while it’s a compliment to some, others find it offensive and it could appear as if it were I who did the whistling, not my innocent 7 year old daughter. After all, what could I do, blame on her?

“No really mister, it was my kid! Honest!!!”


Example the last

Drew likes to be funny. She does it sometimes intentionally and other times it just comes by her honestly. She’s been reading Captain Underpants and has gotten a silly streak in her recent activities around the house. While talking to someone on the phone the other day, she walks up and pats me on the back with “I love you dad” whispered in my ear. Awwwww! How cute, right?

Taped to my back is a paper that says:

Dad is stinky and needs a diaper change. Dad will henceforth be called Captain Underpants.

When I found it 20 minutes later in the bathroom mirror I tickled her, told her how silly she was and put her to bed while Tina was in the shower. I commenced cleaning dishes in the kitchen, finished and walked back to our bedroom to find the same note taped to the bathroom door. This time, the word Dad had been scribbled out and replaced with the word Mom, written in a scrawling obvious attempt to disguise penmanship. At the bottom of the paper it was signed simply, Love Dad.

My daughter was in bed faking the worst snore I’ve ever heard as I tried explaining to Tina that I had absolutely nothing to do with the note and that Drew must have slipped back into the room and done the deed.

Raising children is such fun.



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