Trash TalkI will sue you SO HARD that no one will EVEN want to hang out with you. (This is how one talks smack to one's brother when one is the child of two attorneys.)
Mom and Dad, why are you guys so awesome?
Years of practice. Why are you so awesome?
Because I was BORN this way, BABY. (Yes, we were then treated to the chorus of a Lady Gaga song.)
Fun With the Kids' Menu
The menu says to draw an iguana in this space. BUT I AM DISREGARDING THE INSTRUCTIONS. (Uttered to the waiter, who looked confused - because the comment was apropos of nothing, or because a seven year-old said "disregarded"?)
I subsequently checked out PJ's drawing, which, in fact, was NOT of an iguana, and I took note of the fact that, where the menu asked, "Will you draw and color Izzy the Iguana?" PJ wrote in bold type, "NO." With three exclamation points. To make it clear that he was DISREGARDING THE INSTRUCTIONS.
Later in the meal, PJ drew something on the front of a cartoon armadillo that could have been udders (there was a cow with udders in close proximity to the armadillo) or could have been an attempt at drawing genitalia. We discussed the fact that it was not polite to draw penises on your kids' menu, but udders were okay, because . . . um . . . udders are breasts. Wait, let's back up and regroup. But PJ couldn't move on from the "udders are breasts" concept:
REALLY? I did not know that. Clearly, I need to brush up on my animal knowledge. You need to send me to farm school.
I know something about Mexican girls.
WOW. That's an . . . interesting . . . statement. Please continue.
When they turn fifteen, like, in Mexico, they have a quinceanera.
That's right. And do you know what a quinceanera is?
Duh. It's the thing that Mexican girls have when they are fifteen.