"Daddy - I can poo in a book bag."
She said that right before I checked her book bag was ready for school. I shook it slowly to see if it was off-weight or anything like that. I'm not positive that I could identify if a bag that didn't normally have a poo in it did. But I jiggled it anyway. Then I flatly asked her, 'did you poo in this bag?" She said no - but she didn't look horrified about the suggestion. She looked like she was picturing it in her head so that she could figure out why on earth I was asking her that. "You said you could poo in a book bag...." I feebly said. To which she explained that when she's already wearing her bag she can still sit on the toilet and poo. In other words she thinks it was an achievement worth boasting about. It'd be an interesting scout badge, I'll give it that.
Also earlier when I was in the bathroom (no book bag, for anyone wondering) I think my son read the earlier blog entry about the magical gay soap his sister is protecting him from. Because for good portions of the morning he's been proudly mincing about the house in various extravagant outfits. First he whined hysterically that he couldn't keep on a Mardi Gras mask on his sister got as a present from New Orleans. Then he wanted to wear the black velvet dress that his sister had just taken off when we walked over to the auto-mechanics to pick up my car. I said no - he made a noise like a moose doing a Glaswegian accent for five minutes. Then, after he'd calmed down, I told him to go get his shoes on. He put these on -:
I'm actually sort of proud to say that they suit him quite well actually. And yes - I did consider whacking the black velvet dress on him and taking that photo, but didn't purely (and really - it was the only reason) because it would be annoying to explain to his sister why he was allowed to wear a dress that she'd just been made to take off. I did make him put his regular shoes on though.
Before we left I told my kids that to a point they can wear whatever they want - but on occasion I would like them to wear whatever I throw at them just so we can get on with the day. My daughter then said boys shouldn't wear dresses or dancing shoes, and that she won't wear my underpants - presumably the most manly item of clothing she could think of. I quickly Googled and showed them an example of what I think would be unacceptable to wear to a mechanics garage.
As yo ucan imagine that was a catastrophic thing to do and my daughter thinks that's actually a really good outfit for us all to wear. But I fobbed her off by saying you have to make them and we don't have time. I hope she forgets about them or she might be waiting for her mother to make them at some point.
On the way over to get the car the weather turned a little sour, and my daughter asked if we were going to make it in time before we got struck by lightning. This was because yesterday we had a very loud and very local lightning and thunder storm. During which time she taught me that -:
- Lightning is best friends with Thunder. Who is also friends with Dr. Bonk.
- Because lightning hits the highest things it will either hit the Moon, or my bottom (specifically mine) if I lie on the ground - what with it's rotund buoyancy poking it high into the air.
- That we would need a candle soon to see on the road - at 10.30 am - because the power would go out (do people even buy candles any more as lighting? Seems like the next big push to prevent wasting electricity could center around candles - except if they had no smell I'm sure kids today would complain that they didn't work properly) .
- Lightning is actually God dropping lemonade. Thunder is God's stomach rumbling.
- That Bananaman wouldn't be scared at all by lightning at all - "not even if it burned his banana." I suggested perching Bananaman's banana on my exceptionally high bottom to protect me - but she said he wouldn't give the likes of me his banana. She seemed quite confident about that as well.
Anyhoo - we didn't die from lightning. And not due to any banana strategism. Which I'm told is the worst kind of gism known to man.