7. Out of the Mouth of Babes

Maggie: I could hear Abigail through the baby thermometer!

Maggie:  Mommy, who do you think Abby loves more? You or me?

Evelyn: The only things I'm allergic to are monsters, skeletons, witches, and pickles.

Also Evy: A friend of mine is allergic to angels.

Due to my fatherly blunders, I created no small amount of confusion and drama regarding the Tooth Fairy. Well, the Tooth Fairy herself  wrote Maggie the following letter in the way of damage control:

Dear Margaret,

Congratulations on losing a tooth! 

I heard that your daddy recently told you that mommies and daddies are the ones who give money to their cute kids who lose teeth. He’s right that parents sometimes are my assistants when I’m extra busy, but that is a special secret between just me and the parents, and it was a big mistake for him to tell you. I was sad that he had spoiled the secret, but I understand that he’s really sorry, so please tell him that I forgive him but that he had better not mention it to your two little sisters. If he does, he’ll be in big trouble, and I mean it. (Don’t worry. I’m not really mad at him, but I am serious.)

Good luck in school!

Love,

The Tooth Fairy

P.S. Your new smile is beautiful!

Evy, during the aftermath of the aforementioned Tooth Fairy blunder: Jared, since you lost a tooth, Mommy and Daddy will put money under your pillow!

There was one night that we—I mean the Tooth Fairy—forgot to collect Jared's tooth. He informed us of the fact and then left a postage stamp–sized note with his tooth the next night that said simply this: "What happened last night?" Can you hear just a little hint of sarcasm? 

Jared, after having his hair cut: My haircut feels like a monkey's bum! [Very classy.]

At dinner one night, Maggie asked whether leprechauns were real. Jared, in a very convincing Irish accent, replied, "It depends upon whether you're Irish!"

While offering a family prayer during December, Jenny prayed, "Help us to remember that Christmas is about Baby Jesus." Evelyn corrected Jenny, in a rather loud whisper: "Christmas is about giving presents!"

Jared invented a secret language a few months back: He simply says "in-a-ra-ra-ra" after every sentence he says. "Mommy do you want to play a game, in-a-ra-ra-ra?" "Daddy, I'm excited to go skiing, in-a-ra-ra-ra." Mercifully, this secret language had a short shelf life and is no longer spoken in our home.

After I predicted that we were going to get pounded by snow on a particular day, Jared raised his eyebrows knowingly and said, "Well, that's good for our water supply!"

Evy: I sleeped in today. Sleeping in makes you happy and sleeping out makes you sad.

Evy, after learning about our country and the flag one morning at Joyschool: I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, indivisible of all!

Maggie: Tomorrow we're going to have a party at school. Maybe I'll be a party animal!

Maggie, after Jared tooted in the car: It smells like Eleanor Roosevelt back here! [At the time, Jared was reading a book about the former First Lady, and the kids got a kick out of the caricature of her on the book's cover.]

Evy: There was a farmer who had a cat and Binxie [that's Alan's parents' cat] was his name-o! Binx-I-N-G-O, Binx-I-N-G-O, Binx-I-N-G-O, and Binxie was his name-o!

If you haven't had the opportunity of reading The Sad Tale of Henry the Goldfish, please click here. Really, you should. It's great. He was our pet for two exciting days back in October, and I'm sure you can guess why we only had him for two days. Reading that post will provide important context for the following:

Evy: There was a farmer who had a fish, and he began to die. Blub, blub, blub blub blub! Blub, blub, blub blub blub! Blub, blub, blub blub blub! And Bingo was his name-o!

Maggie, also referring to Henry: Animals go up to heaven?! That's crazy!

Jared, Maggie, and Evy have invented the word ziti, which is not a kind of pasta. Rather, it is a code word for bum—though Jared still won't actually admit that that's what it means. They invented it since we told them that they can only use "potty words" if they are either (1) in the bathroom or (2) watching the classic film Elmo's Potty Time. Yes, we actually had to make that rule. Pathetic. So they have invented ziti, and they are under the mistaken impression that they can, with impunity, tell each other to "smell my ziti" or threaten to "spank your ziti," Jenny and I would prefer that they not use the real word or their code word, but we've struck a compromise: they can use ziti as long as it's not at the dinner table.

P.S. We think, but we haven't been able to confirm, that they have invented a code word for—please forgive me—diarrhea. All three of them will look at each other, giggle, and then one of them will say, "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh noooooooooooooo!!!" All three of them will then burst into irreverent laughter.