Vote for Pedro

Listen.  I will write two bloggity blogs in one day if I want to.  As I typed "bloggity blog", I recall that my stepfather, Juris, tells me that the kids need to stop listening to all that hippity hop music.  When he says this, he hops from one foot to the other and wags his head like three snaps and a cheeseburger.  It's hard to take him seriously, but these are his real opinions, folks.

The kids have said some hilarious things lately, so I figured I'd blog them.

The Little Man told me yesterday that he will put his shoes on......and I look like a meatloaf.

I took the Big Man to Toys R Us a few weeks ago to pick out the toys that he wants to ask Santa for.  I wasn't being very sneaky.  I carried around a pad of paper and wrote down everything he wanted and the price.  I told him he was picking all of the expensive stuff.  He told me when it comes from Santa, it doesn't cost anything.  I told him Santa sends us a bill.  My cousin wondered what we were gonna do when the kids were teenagers, and the "toys" they want for Christmas cost 200 bucks.  My answer is that is the year when their Christmas gift is a stocking full of job applications.

Speaking of Santa, I don't recall ever having to keep this "secret" from anyone before, and seeing as I always vowed to never have kids (another, less lighthearted post topic), I figured I'd never have to do it.  For real, dudes, I hate it.  I think the actual idea of Santa is stupid.  Also, I'm REALLY awful at lying.  I might as well wink and nudge the kid when I mention "Santa".  Seriously, I would do air quotes every time I said the word "Santa".  Alas, I'm just a stepparent.  I don't get to decide that Santa is stupid for the dudes.  Their actual parents think he's one cool mofo, so I have to act like he is, too.  That chubby effer.  Put the cookie down!

The Little Man gave me a compliment a couple of days ago.  It went like this:
LM:  Karen, someone wrote on your car with chalk.
Me:  I know.  I can't seem to get it off.
LM:  You sure do look beautiful when you have your glasses on.

Also, on Halloween, someone answered the door, and instead of "trick or treat", Little Man decided on "Whoa!  What is that smell?!?"  The guy told him it was food, but Little Man came down the driveway and said "That man, he had Doritos smelling in his breath."  Awesome.

Last year some time, I was on this "we will only eat ground turkey and not ground beef" kick for like.....two hours.  Anyway, I was making spaghetti with the Jennie-O turkey that the Biggest Losers covet, and the Big Man asks me, "What's that?"  "Turkey," I supplied.  Like I said, me and lying, we just don't go together.  The Big Man astutely informs me that, "that's not turkey.  Turkey is made from meat and sauce."

Who knew?