Dinner Excuse

Yesterday I was driving Deacon and McKay home from McKay's dance class, when Deacon announced, "I'm hungry."

"Good,"  I said, "dinner is waiting for us in the crockpot."

"What is it?"  he asked suspiciously.

"Beef stroganoff."

"I hate that!!!  I'm not going to eat it!  I'm going to throw it in the garbage!"

"Then you will find yourself in bed for the night without any dinner."

Deacon pauses.  He's rethinking he's game plan.

"How about I cook myself my own healthy dinner?"  he asks, sweetly.

"How about you try would I cooked?  You've never even tried it.  You don't know that you don't like it."

"Mom--"

"I don't want to hear another complaint."

"I'm not complaining."

"O.k."

"Remember before I was born when I lived with Jesus?"

"Yes?"  I am shocked by this sudden change of topic.

"Well, I tried beef stroganoff then.  I didn't like it."

The Gospel According to the Beatles

Yesterday, the speaker in sacrament meeting was talking about the Word of Wisdom.  Deacon leaned over to me and said, "I know what the words of wisdom are."

"What?"  I ask.

"Let it be."

Clean House

"Ewww, what is that stinky smell?"  McKay asks this morning as she eats her breakfast.

"It's the pile of unwashed dishes in the sink."

I did not wash a single dish yesterday.  Breakfast, lunch, dinner, assorted snacks, and juice cups were spilling out over the sink and onto the counter.  Some spoons were on the floor, lying on top of a giant mystery stain.  It was not my finest moment as a housekeeper.

Now a normal person might stop and clean their kitchen when their six year old daughter complains the smell is making her lose her appetite.  But once again, I proved my lack of normalcy, by simply lighting a scented candle and heading upstairs.

Thirty minutes later I came downstairs to find Deacon perched next to the candle.  A graham cracker, broken in half was lying next to him on the counter.  A giant marshmallow was attached to a toothpick, and Deacon was holding onto this toothpick, his marshmallow resting over the flame.

"What are you doing, Deacon?"  I ask.

He looks up.  "Making s'mores.  Can I have some chocolate?"

A Mother's Example

I'm driving my kids when McKay announces, "When I grow up I don't want to work."

I'm thinking pretty well of myself at this point.  I've decided that McKay probably loves having her own stay-at-home mommy so much, she wants to give her own children that same experience.  I'm giving myself a mental awesome mom award, when the next words out of her mouth put me in my place.

"I just want to steal my husband's money like mom steals dad's money."

Deacon has a good solution for McKay.  "You can marry me, McKay, and steal my money."

"No, Deacon.  You can't marry family.  I'm going to find a husband who I love and adore and think is adorable just like mom loves dad."

Ah, how sweet.

"And then I will destroy him."

Oh.

"Like mom does dad."

Reasons Why I Like Taking Deacon to Baseball Games

1.  He cheers on the home team.

Deacon (yelling):  "Dude, hit the ball hard!"

Instantly the batter hits the ball for a base hit.

Deacon:  "I told him."

2.  He puts obnoxious fans in their place.

Turning and facing the obnoxious teenage boys sitting behind us, Deacon declares, "Can you just be quiet?"

3.  He sees dead people.

Deacon:  "Look!  Babe Ruth's up to bat!"

Me:  "Really?"

Deacon:  "But how did he get to Meridian, Idaho?"

Them Bones...Again

"Deacon, you are not allowed to leave your room until it's clean," I announce this afternoon.

"Mom, Jesus made my bones," he answered.

I have an idea where this conversation is headed.

"And he made the bones in my legs.  And my legs can walk right out of this room."

The Blame Game

"Mom, Deacon's poking sticks into dad's car!"

"Deacon, why are you poking sticks into the car?"

"It's not my fault, mom," Deacon tells me.

"Do you see these arms?" he asks, holding his arms up. "Jesus gave me these arms.  And the bones inside of them make me do things I shouldn't do."