Why I don't have kids...
Okay, so last night I decided to make Cajun food and a King's Cake for my French class for Mardi Gras. Well, I can cook, but baking is definitely not my strong suit, so I enlisted the help my all knowing, Betty Crocker with an organic twist friend, Elizabeth. She came over for some vino and to offer much needed advice, instruction, assistance, what have you, bringing along her two year old daughter Soren. Being that it was pretty much past Soren's bedtime, she was in rare form. First incident, my vicious (I use the term very sarcastically) miniature schnauzer , Bridget, pinned her to the ground and gave her doggy kisses which led to a series of howls and cries from Soren. Next incident, Soren and Bridget have now made up and are playing together. Elizabeth and I are in the kitchen and we hear, "Bridget, smell my balls" in the cutest little two year old voice. Yes that's right SMELL MY BALLS. You may ask where does such a sweet, little, innocent thing get such a phrase? Well, apparently being the parrot and sponge that she is, she has heard and seen her hilarious father scratch his "balls", and then, stick his hand in Elizabeth's face and say, "Smell my balls!" I about started crying I was laughing so hard at this. Kids, Oy-Vay. Last incident, so I mentioned earlier that Elizabeth had come over for some vino. There was flour all over the kitchen counter from kneading the dough for the king's cake, and Soren decided she needed to help. She began scooping up the flour with a measuring cup, and you want to guess where that flour went...right into my wine glass. What do you do when a two year old dumps flour in your wine??? You smile and say that's okay, and you pour more wine because at this point you have decided thank God I don't have one of these of my own yet. Did I mention I am babysitting her tonight??? No really, she is the cutest thing, and she prays for me every night when she says her bedtime prayers. I just hope she is big girl tonight, and there are no poopy pants. I'm not mature enough for all of that.
4 Comments:
and, just for the record, i am sure that she did, indeed, say 'smell my balls' because she repeated it three other times.
i, too, about peed my pants.
Hee! I really like kids, but stories like this often make me glad I can borrow little ones from friends and then give them back. ;)
So after all that, how did your Mardi Gras food turn out?
the food was great. the king's cake turned out great, Dr, Chancellor would have been proud
to quote velma porrez from covg... not in the womb, not in the home. amen sista.
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