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My trip to my twin nephews wasn’t nearly as amusing this year as last, mostly because I left Yo-yo at home and I slept through whatever witticisms my mom provided on the way there. Put me in a car anymore and don’t have me drive, and half an hour in, I’m out cold. And so, most of the humor was provided not by adults, but by the stars of the show.
About halfway through, those stars started getting just a little testy and started wondering why these weird adult people were invading their home.
FISH: I’m here because I’m your aunt!
THING TWO: *stares at the not at all fun woman who spent the week sleeping on his couch* Why are you my aunt?
FISH: Because I’m your daddy’s sister.
THING TWO: Daddy doesn’t have a sister. He has Thing One and Thing Two. *death glare*
FISH: Eheheheh, okay! *flees*
Yeah, he didn’t take that well.
BROTHER: Well he has to learn that the world doesn’t revolve around him. Everyone does.
SISTER-IN-LAW: He’s three, genius.
MOM: It’s a process.
BROTHER: Everybody but me, that is.
I occasionally claim to be smart. I lie.
FISH: And Grandan’s your Grandan because he’s your daddy’s daddy, and he’s my daddy too!.
THING ONE: *cuddles deeper into my lap* You’re too old to have a daddy.
I just learned all the facts of life on this vacation, didn’t I.
We showed up when the holidays were in full swing, and my brother and my sister-in-law aren’t Jewish. I got a present! Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking more specifically.
Now, only my brother would get me a cookbook for Christmas and then expect me to cook a great big French dinner the next day for a thank you. My-sister-in law certainly wouldn’t, you should have seen her face when she imagined the state her kitchen would be in when I was through with it.
But, because I’m a domestic goddess, I pulled it off with a chicken fricassée with wine and cream sauce on a bed of white rice with steamed broccoli, and the left over wine I didn’t use in the sauce. And a side dish of glowers.
Her kitchen was pristine when I left it, in case you were wondering.
About halfway through, those stars started getting just a little testy and started wondering why these weird adult people were invading their home.
FISH: I’m here because I’m your aunt!
THING TWO: *stares at the not at all fun woman who spent the week sleeping on his couch* Why are you my aunt?
FISH: Because I’m your daddy’s sister.
THING TWO: Daddy doesn’t have a sister. He has Thing One and Thing Two. *death glare*
FISH: Eheheheh, okay! *flees*
Yeah, he didn’t take that well.
BROTHER: Well he has to learn that the world doesn’t revolve around him. Everyone does.
SISTER-IN-LAW: He’s three, genius.
MOM: It’s a process.
BROTHER: Everybody but me, that is.
I occasionally claim to be smart. I lie.
FISH: And Grandan’s your Grandan because he’s your daddy’s daddy, and he’s my daddy too!.
THING ONE: *cuddles deeper into my lap* You’re too old to have a daddy.
I just learned all the facts of life on this vacation, didn’t I.
We showed up when the holidays were in full swing, and my brother and my sister-in-law aren’t Jewish. I got a present! Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking more specifically.
Now, only my brother would get me a cookbook for Christmas and then expect me to cook a great big French dinner the next day for a thank you. My-sister-in law certainly wouldn’t, you should have seen her face when she imagined the state her kitchen would be in when I was through with it.
But, because I’m a domestic goddess, I pulled it off with a chicken fricassée with wine and cream sauce on a bed of white rice with steamed broccoli, and the left over wine I didn’t use in the sauce. And a side dish of glowers.
Her kitchen was pristine when I left it, in case you were wondering.
