Those of us in the under-11 set are filled to the brim with over-excitement, thanks to there being only 10 DAYS UNTIL Christmas. A sampling of amusement from tonight’s dinner table:
Baxter, conjugating his version of “to barf” in Spanish: “Vomito, vomitas, vomita, vomitamos, vomitan.”
Background: The band K.I.S.S. came up in conversation (don’t ask). Lyle flipped out, being at the age where there’s nothing worse than kissing. In a very bad move, I joked that maybe he makes such a big deal about kissing because he really likes it. He subsequently lost it.
Lyle, sobbing into my shoulder: “You don’t have to rub it in! Thanks a lot! FOR BEING SARCASTIC!!!”
Me, stumbling over my words.
Baxter: “What’s the matter? First time using your new lips?”
Lyle, brandishing his fingers like guns over his head in a self-congratulatory move, hears from Matt for the first time that they’re called “six-shooters”. I asked him how many bullets he’d have if he had two six-shooters (because good math skills come before pacifism, obviously – after all, this is the No Child Left Behind era).
“Twelve!” he said immediately. Matt and I clapped and cheered for him.
He tapped me on the shoulder. “Um, you forgot to say WOW!”
Baxter, guiding a very hyper Lyle downstairs after dinner: “I’m gonna take him downstairs for some razzle-dazzle, so we can get his shenanigans out.”
I don’t know what it means, but I hope it worked.