Overheard

Back when I had fewer kids, I seemed to be able to form coherent thoughts on topics other than poop, sleep and toddlers who don't eat. My number one source of outside news these days is my husband who often asks me, "Did you hear about ... " And I say, "Um, no." And just as he begins relating the news of the day, someone starts screaming or someone needs to be changed or wiped or fed. I just nod and try to comprehend what he says. I often just keep my mouth shut because I fear sleep deprivation has rendered me incoherent and totally confused. (This is a sad state of affairs for someone who used to work for a newspaper.)

This morning, though, I was listening to some yippity yappers on a morning talk show and I heard this:

"This should be a lesson to the banks that they can't run their front office so fast. If some people get back into their houses free and clear, then so be it."

And this:

"If there are people out there who just signed every piece of paper put in front of them [at the closing table], then there are going to be some indictments."


They were talking about the foreclosure crisis. Now, I know the perils of taking quotes "out of context," but let me assure you, they were talking about this as a moral issue and actually sticking up for the defaulting homeowner. I don't know, though ... keeping something, like, say, a house, that you didn't pay for seems like stealing to me. And stealing is against the law under most, if not all, circumstances. Right?

I would comment further but I'm just tired and kind of sad that my children are growing up in a world where figuring out right from wrong is so very confusing. Sigh. 

The nonsense my children utter under our (mortgaged) roof  seems to make more sense. 

This is a little corner, Danny cries as he's shown the corner at Nana's house.
That's okay, Dan, you have a little nose, Daddy replies.

Owie, you're my best friend, Danny says. [Sniff] Actually, I had to fight the tears pretty hard. I get weepy when I haven't had much sleep.

I have had it with the dumping of the hamster, I tell my husband over the phone one morning. Owie was up every two hours the night before. This seriously hampers (the word I meant to use, actually) my ability to communicate intelligibly.

Put that [kitchen set] back upright, I tell Danny.
No thanks, he replies.
Oh, really? A quick smack on the bum changed his mind.

I did it all by myself like a man, Danny tells me after helping himself to the lemonade. I had just moved the lemonade dispenser to the bottom shelf in the fridge where the kids can reach it. I'm sure that I'll come to regret this very soon. Though I do love that he can help himself and his sister to snacks and drinks now.

Have a good weekend. (And don't forget to pay your mortgage. It's still the right thing to do.)