A Question I Didn’t Realize I Knew The Answer To

With five minutes to go before her meeting started, L’s Mother came out this morning proclaiming in a fake panic that she didn’t have tea, or snacks, or “anything,” and the whole display reminded me of something, but I didn’t want to verbalize it.

Evidently though, L’s Mother picked up on it too, because she then launched into a credible imitation of Kermit the Frog flailing his arms in excitement, and then I had to say it:

“If I’m ever asked, ‘Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be married to a Muppet?”, I can truthfully say that I don’t have to wonder.”

I Can Totally See That Happening

L’s Mother mentioned in passing the other day how she once heard someone discussing just how much of our early language learning as children is all “by ear” and without context. This leads to situations where a parent hears their child asking if they can have “an apple,” and nobody thinks anything of it until the child asks for “another napple.”

And That’s No Exaggeration

I hate how it plays to certain tropes, but it’s no secret that L’s Mother is a big fan of alternative foods, and I am . . . not. She’s been right just often enough about the foods that she’s had me try that I don’t wince at the idea (any more), so these days I frequently just go all in on what I’m trying.

With that said, today I tried some hemp-based creamer, promptly gave a Kool-Aid Man worthy “Oh no!”, and went to inform L’s Mother that I would not be using that creamer again.

“Could you taste the hemp?” she asked.

“I could taste the rope,” I told her.

So It’s The Exception, Not The Rule

“I’m attending a virtual meeting in an advisory capacity this afternoon,” L’s Mother told me this morning.

“Meaning,” I chuckled, “that if they already agree with you, your input is valued and appreciated, and if they don’t agree with you, they didn’t have to listen to you anyway. Is that it?”

“Well . . . not this time . . .” L’s Mother admitted.

The Past Can Be Tricky

Yesterday I informed L. and his mother that while her birthday present should easily get here in time, there was a small chance it wouldn’t. This didn’t bother L’s Mother in the slightest, of course, but she asked L. if he wanted to get her something else small to be sure she had something from him on her birthday. He said no.

“You’re okay trusting the present then?” she asked him, meaning that the present would get here on time, but that’s not how I chose to take it.

“Of course!” I chimed in. “It’s the past you’ve got to watch out for!”

It Wasn’t From UPS

“Hang on,” L’s Mother told me yesterday as she glanced at her watch.  “I think all my texts for today are coming in at once.  Yeah . . . I’m seeing a notification about a delivery from UPS . . . something about a baby . . .”

“From UPS?!” I just had to ask.

(By the way, congratulations, Pixie.)

Well It Was!

This morning out of the corner of my eye I saw L’s Mother do a cute little stage-worthy side kick in the kitchen.  I figured she was probably just in a good mood, but I decided I wanted the full story.

“What was that for?” I asked her.

She shot me a curious look.  “I nearly lost my balance.”

“Oh,” I said.  “Well it was adorable in my peripheral vision.”

The Funny Thing Is That She Really Did

L’s Mother (First thing this morning):  I took a gender role test!

Me (Still sleepy):  Did you pass?

L’s Mother:  I got a 117%!

Me:  . . . 

When You Get Outjoked On Your Own Joke At The Worst Possible Time

Yesterday I noticed in passing that L’s Mother was wearing socks, so naturally I wandered over to her and said, “Hey there, socksy.”  (And if you don’t like the humor, I will remind you that you were not in the room I was playing to, because L’s Mother responded with a big smile and a childishly proud, “I’m socksy!”)

Later that evening during a more private moment between the two of us, for some reason I felt the need to point out that she was no longer wearing socks, prompting her to pout like a child and proclaim, “I am no longer socksy.”

 

And I Stand By This, TYVM

“All I’m saying,” I was saying the other day, “was that if you want to sincerely thank someone in text, unless you’re under fire or on fire, you can take the time to type out ‘Thank you!’  ‘TYVM!’ just doesn’t cut it.”

“It’s just linguistic shift,” L’s Mother retorted.  “It’s no different than saying ‘goodbye’ instead of ‘God be with ye.'”

“That actually proves my point,” I replied.  “If I want to say ‘goodbye’ and mean goodbye, I’ll say goodbye; if I want to say and mean ‘God be with ye,” I’ll say ‘God be with ye.’  They convey entirely different messages!”