Quote of the day...er...week...umm...hey, look, a quote!!

Tibi gratias agimus quod nihil fumas.

It says "...freedom of...", not "...freedom from...".

Nolite te bastardes carburundorum!

"It's amazing to me how many people think that voting to have the government give poor people money is compassion. Helping poor and suffering people is compassion. Voting for our government to use guns to give money to help poor and suffering people is immoral self-righteous bullying laziness. People need to be fed, medicated, educated, clothed, and sheltered, and if we're compassionate we'll help them, but you get no moral credit for forcing other people to do what you think is right. There is great joy in helping people, but no joy in doing it at gunpoint." - Penn Jillette

Monday, February 18, 2008

Laughing at The Evil Genius

On Monday nights, Bird and I join friends for a friendly evening of play. He plays with his friends and I hang out and chat, write, and crochet with their parents, who are my friends.

We have a potluck sort of dinner, with the hostess providing the main dish and the rest of us bringing sides.

Guess who usually brings desert?

As Bird was sitting down to his dinner, he turned to our hostess and asked for something to drink. It's not that he asked, it's how he asked.

"Uh, Miss M, could you facilitate my laziness and get me a drink of water?"

Yes, he did.

You see, when I am seated and don't want to get up because I am covered with cats or a project or my legs are both broken or whatever my excuse is for not wanting to get off my ass, I ask whoever's nearby to facilitate my laziness and get me whatever it is I'm wanting or needing.

Until tonight, though, Bird has never used that phrase. The four adults in the room had a hard time keeping it together.

Good grief, kids are funny, aren't they?

1 comment:

foolery said...

Kids are usually a reflection of their funny PARENTS. That's hysterical!

I'm gonna tell you something that could make you hate me, but I'm gonna do it anyway.

When my elder daughter was about three, maybe four, I lost my temper at bedtime. I was not yelling, but I was running on at the mouth without thinking. I told her I thought she ought to say "I'm sorry, Mommy, for being a rotten little bastard --" OH YES I DID -- but the words were already out of my mouth before I could stop.

Guess what words came back at me in perfect Sunday school repetition?

The smart ones make it sound like they invented the words in the first place, though, don't they? Bird sure is a smart one.