Kid Kollage

After expressing to me in a sanguine manner that he "hates green beans" as I pulled them out of the freezer, my Oldest grabbed a frozen one and ate it. "Tastes like a really cold green bean. You should try it."
"No thanks."

When dinner was finally served and the Oldest had eaten nearly everything except the green beans, I pointed to them and said, "Eat those."
He looked at me and smiled while forking them up to shovel in his mouth. He made that holding his breath sort of face.
"So when you move out I take it you will never eat green beans again."
"Maybe. ----Unless my wife makes me eat them."
Gee whiz, I don't know where he gets that idea, I don't have that kind of power over Dear Sir.

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My daughter keeps telling me I look like an old woman. She continues this statement with a question of, "Are you going to die?"

This is seriously depressing since I am turning 30, have no recording contract, and realize that chewing my cheeks perhaps gives me wrinkles. She's messing with my mind.
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I went and picked up a friend's kid today (who is a total sweetheart) to play with my boys. He sat in the car for a spell with Eraser Eater, marinating while I talked with his mom. When I opened the car door, boy stink met my nose.
"For crying in a bucket, this car smells like solid boy!"
"I'm in here!" yelped the Girl.
"Yes, I smell a slight sugar and spice. But the rest---I don't know, stinky manhood..."
"I like to think we smell like sweaty salsa," the friend chimed.
I laughed so hard, I couldn't take it. Thankfully my bladder wasn't full.
"I think I am going to use that."
"It was cool, it sort of rhymed," the boy said.
"Well, it is actually called 'alliteration'," I said, "like super slurpy, or something like that."
"Huh."
"Sweaty salsa. That's too funny." I shook my head, imagining I would write it on this blog.