Cute Kid Stories

Much as I would like to, I will not bore my dear readers with details on the Cold From Hell that is SUCKING MY WILL TO LIVE. Suffice to say: yes, Virginia, you can break a rib coughing, and it SUUUUUUCKS.

Okay, then.

Little Miss Helen, on one of her typical rambles round my working self, said to me sweetly, "I love you, Mommy."

Of course I couldn't take that at face value, and had to ask, "More than Costi [our long-suffering dog]?"

"Oh, no no, Mommy. I love Costi a MILLION times more than you. Because she's so SOFT."

And you're so rough and scratchy, Mommy.

*

Last night, after a long protracted power struggle/ weeping session over why he couldn't play computer games at nine o'clock on a school night, even if, yes, he DID work Really Hard today, Silas came into the room where I was puttering about while he got himself ready for bed. He was still in his daytime clothes, with unbrushed teeth and hands that had probably not been washed since yesterday (I'm a real stickler for this one. Kid must wash his hands AT LEAST once a day. Yes, I know. I'm SO MEEEEAN.) He did, however, have a box over his head and shoulders. A box with a face, a keyboard, and a large button labeled "Enter."

"I-am-the-smartest-computer-in-the-entire-world," Silas said in his robot voice. "Ask-me-any-question-and-press-enter."

"Hmm. Can you tell me when Silas is going to bed?"

Silence. Then, in his normal voice, "Do you think I should draw another face on this?"

Refresh. Refresh. Cannot compute. Refresh.