we interrupt you're regularly scheduled program with a funny from the big sister

little h has some issues with chocolate, so we avoid it - especially in the evenings.  One evening we were driving through a fast food place to get some ice cream sundaes for a treat.  little h's older sister was really wanting a hot fudge sundae but knew she couldn't say the words in front of little h or he would want one too. 

As we were ordering, I got this request from the sister in the back seat, "Could you order me a hot f-word sundae.  Heavy on the f-word please."

checkmate

little h likes to play chess.  And though he knows the rules and could, theoretically sit down and play an entire game without, say, stealing his opponents knights and hiding them in his pants, he really prefers to play by his own rules.

I thought that perhaps he was the last person in the family I could still beat at chess, but I suffered a devestating loss to him recently.

In my defense, it was a hybrid game of scrabblechess and only little h really understood the rules.  In our game he. . .

. . . captured both of my "bushups" in one move with his "pond."

. . . made his king do a triple back flip diagonally across the board so he could shoot my knight.

. . . "reloaded" my pond and turned him into a robot that worked for him.

. . . "remoted" my king to a position off the board.

. . . checkmated my queen with an 'F' tile.

. . . knocked over several of my pieces, effectively destroying my strategy, with a 13" tyrannosaurus rex named Joseph.

. . . and, in a move that destroyed any chance I may have had to capture any of his pieces, his bushop avoided capture by jumping 3 feet into the air as my queen approached his square.

Checkmate.

holy h

a prayer from little h:

"HEY Jesus Christ! How 'bout you drop a hundred gallons of poop on Andrea's head today.  Amen"

(is there anything quite so inspirational as pudgy little dimpled hands folded in prayer?)

breakfast table wisdom

h:  Hey, do I know how to read yet?

mom:  I don't know, do you?

h:  SOMEONE PUT A NEWSPAPER IN FRONT OF ME, QUICK!!!

[mom puts a newspaper in front of him, he peruses it for a bit]

h:  Hmmm. . . Nope, not yet.  I'm getting close, though.  I think.

a new take on and old saying. . .

Sticks and stones may break my penis, but words will never pee me.

what did ya learn in kindergarten today, little h?

mom:  what did you learn in school today, little h?

h:  never argue on a battlefield.  you will end up dead.

Have Mercy

a longish statement from little h regarding the lazy language skills of teenagers. . .

Why does my brother always say cool?  I mean, yesterday, I was pooping while he was taking a shower and I had to do a mercy flush and I said, "I am doing a mercy flush. It's not a real flush because I am not done pooping, but it's a mercy flush because I need to do a mercy flush in the middle of my poop."

My brother said, "Cool."

Mercy flushes are so not cool.

name-calling

h:  Hey, Andrea . . . you know some people call you 'poop-hole,' right?

me:  What are you talking about?  Nobody calls me poop-hole.

h:  Yes.  Some people do.  I've heard them.

me:  Who?  Who calls me poop-hole?

h:  Well. . . I do.  I call you poop-hole, sometimes.

wednesday's wisdom

h:  What are you going to do while I'm at school today, Andrea.

a:  I've got some work to catch up on.

h:  OK.  I hope you remember to listen to your body, though.  Always listen and respect your body.

meditative monday

I walked past the bathroom recently and witnessed little h on the commode in the lotus pose. 

"HEY! Check it out . . . I am meditating. . . ON THE POT!"


He takes meditation very seriously.

fartsy friday

Everyone in the blogosphere has cute themes for different days of the week, so I thought little h should join them.  We're not quite as cultured as ten on tuesday, or wordless wednesday, though, so fartsy friday, it is.

Little h is a particularly gassy fellow with a very keen sense of smell.  Combine those qualities with his love of descriptive words, and you get some interesting self-observations.

Such as . . . "mmmm. . . that faht smelled delightfully beautiful. . . like lip gloss, bubblegum and poop."