Breakfast for Dinner

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My Plan:
Make Billie breakfast for dinner and clean the house before Doug gets home.

What Actually Happened:
Start making bacon
Dog flips over it’s dish
Clean up dog dish
Get out ingredients for mini muffin tin pancakes
Let Billie help
Salt spills all over the floor
Turn bacon
Slip in salt upon closing the oven door after turning bacon
Billie pours milk in the Dog’s dish, because, naturally, it “makes my bones healthy so it will make her bones healthy. Oh! Maybe we can make pancakes IN the dog dish!!”
Clean up dog dish
Stir pancake ingredients
Too thick- add milk
Run out of milk- add yogurt
Billie dumps yogurt on her face trying to pour it into her mouth
Dog tries to lick it off
Clean Billie
Remove dog from room
Pancakes still too thick
“The batter feels like play-doh, mommy! Stick your hand in it”
Scratch making pancakes, play with “play-doh”
Play doh gets on walls
Billie slips in salt
Where did that yogurt come from?
“I like this. It’s like I am wearing a dress made from pancake!”
Why are you naked?
What is that smell?
How did your pants get in the toaster?
Why does this room look like a bakery exploded?
Burn bacon

Breakfast for Dinner

Of Course.

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As part of my “indoctrinate my kid with all the awesomeness I can while she’s still at an impressionable age” master plan, I have instituted nightly “Harry Potter” reading sessions. At first, we read about 3 pages a night with the promise that she could read a book of her choosing once the 3 page maximum had been hit.
But now? Oh, now she’s addicted. She foregoes all other books just to add more pages onto her nightly Harry Potter limit. She’s 20 pages away from the end of “The Sorcerer’s Stone” and is about to teeter over from the excitement of it all.
And, just as I’m about to pat myself on the back for being such a badass mommy, I decide to ask her which character she would like to be most.
“Fluffy,” she responds.
The three headed dog, guys. The angry, rabid, terrifying three- headed dog.
I ask her why.
“Because I like dogs. I want to be one. And this way I could be three at once!”
Oh, alright. Fair enough.
“What other character would you like to be?”
“Professer Snape, of course!”
Why, again?
“I want to be powerful. And get kids in trouble. Kick ’em outta the castle. Kick ’em a lllll outta the castle. Maybe put them in my cauldron and eat them for dinner. Yes.”

I started this journey patting myself on the back. Now I fear I just gave her more ideas…

Of Course.

Get Well Soon?

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FLASHBACK: January 12, 2013

Doug: “Billie, mommy’s not feeling very well today so I need you to be a super nice big girl for her. Can you do that for me?”
Billie: “Super big girl?”
Doug: “yes.”
Billie: “Come here, momma. Let’s jump!!”
Doug: “No- wait. That’s not what I meant–“
Billie: (now on top of me, jumping up and down while I try to sleep) “MOMMA!!!! THE HIPPO’S GUNNA EAT YOUR FACE!!!! RUN.”
Doug: “Billie, sweetie, that’s not what big girls do—”
Billie: “BIG GIRLS RUN from the hippo, DADDY. They RUN.”
Doug: “No- she needs to rest—”
Billie: (now straddling my face and grabbing both my ears) “Rest. And get EATEN.”

This is what happens when you get sick in our house, folks. Someone tap me out. This hippo shit is intense.

Get Well Soon?

We Should Invest In More Headphones

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Me: “Hey, Doug, we love you.”

Billie: “Yea, dad! We love you!
…Dad? …DAD! Hello? CAN YOU HEAR MEEE?”

Me: “Oh, Billie, he has his headphones on- he can’t hear us. Let’s take advantage: hey, Doug, you’re weird!”

Billie: “Yea, dad! And your pants are on fi-yah and you look the way farts smell!”

Me: “Yea, and you’re a scrawny, weak little man–”

Billie: “YES. LIKE, DO YOU EVEN LIFT, BRO?!?!”

…soooo… this how we spend our mornings…

We Should Invest In More Headphones

BACCCOOONNN

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On our way into the store Billie and I smelled bacon. We figured out it was coming from the little breakfast place across the street. We begged Doug to let us go there after we finished shopping.
He said no.
“But bacon!” we protested.
He still said no.
“Pleaseeeee!” we pleaded.
Still no.
So, in retaliation, we have spent the last 40 minutes in this grocery store speaking to him using only one word: “bacon.”

This is so much fun.
He’s ready to kill us.

BACCCOOONNN

The Things We Say

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Things I have said to my six year old today:

“Wait, what? What about a T-Rex’s vagina?”

“No. No buffalos in the restaurant. That’s a rule.”

“I don’t think you can do that and call it a ‘face five.’ Let’s be real: that’s a headbutt. Also: you should probably apologize to your father.”

“Can you please finish sitting on the toilet singing ’99 things of poop on the wall?’ There are people outside ready to use the bathroom.”

The Things We Say

We Gots Jokes

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Billie: “Why was the 2 afraid of the 7?”
Me: “I don’t know. Why?”
Billie: “Because 7 ate (8) 9!”
Me: “Ha, good joke, I—”
Billie: “Wait! I’m not done. Why was the 47 afraid of the 9?”
Me: “Uh, I haven’t heard this joke before. Why?”
Billie: “Because the 9 slapped the 47 in the booty. Duh.”
Me: “That’s a pretty frisky 9.”
Billie: “Yea, it’s not his fault, tho. His parents never played with him.”

We Gots Jokes