Overheard

Let's see. What's new here?

A rare truce

We're undergoing a little diet experiment. I've cut out gluten for myself and Danny and the rest of the family by extension. I'm only being strict about it with Danny and I. I'm hoping behavior improves (and I've already seen some changes). As for me, I've already lost some weight, gained some energy and reduced the heartburn.

I've also joined a gym. As it turns out, I'm coming to the party a little late. Every time I go, I run into one more friend who works out there, too. There's a kick-ass child care room, a sauna and steam room (which I'm afraid to go in because I'm claustrophobic), all sorts of classes and personal trainers. 

We've taken our crew to Mass for an entire month of Sundays. Jim even took all three kids to church alone on Ash Wednesday. It was actually a success, as have been the Sunday masses. The older two go to the children's liturgy. Owen sticks with us and drives cars up and down our legs.

On Ash Wednesday, Jim explained to Danny that our body is a gift from God and when we're done with this life, we return our bodies to the dirt. The whole ashes to ashes, dust to dust thing. He got it. A little too well, actually.

I don't want you to give up your body, Danny wailed to Jim at the Ash Wednesday service. After about 30 panicky seconds of this, Jim tells him: Do you know what they give kids who get their ashes? 
What?
Free ice cream. Instant smiles.
Where's the ice cream? he asks.
We have to buy it at Kroger.
That's not free.
Of course, it's free. You're not paying for it. We've inadvertently started a new tradition. Ashes and ice cream.


And speaking of dirt ...

Eww. Are you eating dirt? I ask Danny, whose mouth was surrounded by dirt.
Yeah. He opens his mouth.
How does it taste?
Good, he says, grinning. (What is wrong with little boys? Seriously, are they all like this?)

Fiona, on the other hand, has her own world view.

It's soap, Fiona squeals about the sparkling cranberry juice I just made. There was a layer of bubbles on top of the juice.

Chocolate, Fiona squeals as she and her neighborhood girlfriends are stomping in the mud. Only a girl would see chocolate in the mud.

Dad, let's get out the telescope tonight.
Oh, it's too dark for that, Danny, Jim says, thinking this will work.
No, no, telescopes are for seeing in the dark.


Is there something wrong with your ears, Danny? He had just said to me for the 50th time that day, "What did you say?"
My ears might be loose, he says.

FiFi do, Owen cries after Fiona accidentally knocked him over. He can tattle now. That's a game changer right there.

I did that, Fiona tells me proudly as I help her put clothes back on her dolls.
Why do you take their clothes off?
So they can be naked and poop on the floor, she cackles.

Look at me. I'm bouncing, Danny says.
Stop bouncing off the walls, Jim replies. After all, it's breakfast time.

The paper ripped. What are we going to do? Fiona wails forlornly. 


These pants have holes in them. You can't wear them to church.
No, there's a holy book there.

Owen is making noise, mommy, Fiona wails. (Really, she doesn't say anything anymore. It all comes out in a nerve-jangling wail.)
NOISE, Owen replied. BLAH. WAH. DAH. AH. AHHHH. AHHH. (shrieking laughter) 


Would you look at Owen's face, I say to Fiona. He had barbecue sauce up to his eyeballs. Literally. His nose is running, she says. No mention of the barbecue sauce. Actually, I couldn't even see the snot running out of his nose through all the sauce.


Did you have fun at Josh's house? I ask Danny.
Yeah. I didn't say poopy. That hurts people's feelings.


Don't go to fast, mommy. The police will catch you, Fiona says.


Molly licked my butt, Fiona says. Luckily, she was wearing pants. 


Molly knocked over the blocks when I was trying to ride her, Danny says.

Oh, really?
I can't ride dogs. I try and try, but I just can't do it. 


Enjoy your weekend.