Wednesday, December 5, 2018

July 2016- June 2017


Damon, 6: I look like a Frankenguy cuz I have so many booboos!

Damon, singing to "My Country Tis of Thee": I love everybody but Donald Trump!

Damon: what is t-i-r-e-d? Is it "turd"?

The radio is cheerfully playing "It's Beginning to Look A Lot like Christmas" and an indignant Damon comments, "it IS Christmas, you idiot!"

An enthusiastic Damon to Dada: you are a good maker of salsa!

Mama, texting Rita about potential snowfall: Now WTOL is saying three to eight!!!!!
Rita: Tell them to shut it!!!!!

Dada: Liam, I wanted to let you know before you went to school that Donald Trump will be our next President...
Liam, 11: *sigh* Then can we move?

Damon, 6: May I please play on the iPad cuz I'm your cutie and I finished my breakfast?

Dada, teasing Damon, 6: I'm gonna wear you. As my belt. Right here.
Damon, bemoaning: I'll die! I'm not that stretchy!

Carrie, 13, on cologne samples: Woohoo, it's nice! *sniff* *COUGH COUGH*

According to AutoCorrect, Carrie's "Ah forget it, I hate this keyboard" becomes "Ah frog it, I hat this key butt."

Mama to Liam, a bacon-devourer: Bacon doesn't really count as a protein.
Liam: It's MEAT!........ kind of..... okay, it's tasty.

Damon, 6, to Pap: Wo who are you gonna marry next?
Pap: Nobody.
Liam: You can live with us!
Pap: I'll probably live in my shop out there.
Dada: Yeah, marry your table saw.
Pap: Haha! If I could find a younger one...

Damon, 6, from the back seat, singing to the "We Are Farmers" commercial: You're the best mom ever...
Mama waits for the dum da dum dum dum dum DUM 
Damon: uh, but that isn't fair to Zita...

Carrie to Alexis: John still hasn't wrotten me back.
Mama overheard: Carrie. "Wrotten"? You're in EIGHTH GRADE. "Wrotten?!"
Carrie to Alexis: John still hasn't emailed me back.

Damon: Mama, I'm six and a half! Are you forty and a half?
Mama: Yes. Actually I'm more like forty and three fourths.
Damon: And then you'll be fifty!
Mama: ... noooooo, then I'll be forty-ONE, thank you very much.

On fears, thirteen year old Carrie yammers on, explaining. Then, to sum up, "but probably bees."

Mama, Halloween weekend, sipping hot coffee, hums in satisfaction to Dada: I love how that looks in there. Like it's been in there forever. The hutch.
Dada: Oh, I was gonna ask- the Christmas tree?
Mama makes a wry face: that HAS been there forever.

Damon, 6, on brushing his teeth and getting eyedrops: YOU'RE TORTURING ME! THIS IS THE WORST DAY THAT I'VE EVER HAD! And I mean THE WORST.

Damon, 6:  Do you like me better when my pupils are big? Am I cuter when my pupils are big?

Mama, losing patience with kids sloooooogging through homework, texts Rita to maintain sanity.
Rita: They are cute and have smushy kissable cheeks.
Mama: True. However I am going to CHOMP HIM!!!!
Rita: Haha! That is always satisfying.
Mama: Well, I meant to maim...

Dada, trying to pep-talk Carrie before a math test: Gimme an M. Gimme an A. Gimme a T. Gimme an H. What's that spell?
Carrie: Meth.
Mama shuts her eyes, reaching for coffee.
Carrie starts giggling as Dada peps on, unconcerned.
Dada noticing, stops.
Dada: What'd you say?
Mama begins humming "Signs"

Mama to a packing for summertime at Pap's Carrie: Carrie, wanna take the pink laundry thing?
Carrie: No, Pap has a dishwasher. Waitaminute.

Damon is commentating from the Old Lady Room while Mama makes lunch.
Mama: Tell me nobody's on the Wii...
Damon: I am on the Wii!
Mama: DAMON.
Damon, singsong: Just kidding.
Mama: Child. There will be beatings.
Damon: Yay! I get to beat you up, too. Free for all!

Carrie: Mom, what's Kona Ice?
Mama shrugs.
Carrie: If I sold 3 magazines last night, the ice cream trucks pulled up but one, I didn't know what Kona Ice was, and three I didn't sell three. *pause* WAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Dada, trying to open a bottle of wine, experiences a cork break. Trying to get it out, it falls farther in. After trying a longer corkscrew, both cork and corkscrew drop into the full bottle of wine. 
Grandmama: what now?
Dada: Grrr. Now we get something to pour the wine in.