Friday Fragments: Whose Kids ARE These Anyway?

Our 9-year-old and two of his buddies mowed a guy’s lawn in the neighborhood and he stiffed them! You know, it’s one thing to take advantage of another adult, but to rip off three earnest, hard-working, (somewhat mercenary) little kids is criminal! So tonight we saw the guy pulling into his driveway and J5 confronted him...and was able to collect payment for himself and his two friends. Then on the way home he tells me, “Good thing he finally paid up. I was ready to take the weedwhacker and carve “You Suck” into his front lawn.” (We had a little chat about what might be a more appropriate response...after I stopped laughing.) :)

Our 13-year old daughter asked this brilliant question awhile ago:
What’s Mick Jagger’s first name? (Mick)
Well then what’s his last name? (Jagger)
Come on, really, what’s his whole name? (laughing, Mick. Jagger.)
No, really...
(We finally figured out that she thought his name was “McJagger”...like McDonalds, or Macgyver, or...um, McStones?) Hahaha. (Her 17-year-old brother WILL NOT let her live this one down!)

Two nights ago I made the rounds to kiss everyone good night, and I walked in on the princess...in a black swimsuit and aviator sunglasses, pinning her hair up. “AHAHAHAH!” I burst into laughter. Her response: “Don’t blog about this, Mom.” Last night, I made my rounds again, and stopped in to kiss her good night, and she was standing in front of the mirror in full hippie regalia: A fluorescent paisley polyester one-piece pantsuit with huge bellbottoms, and a headband. “HAHAHAHAHAAH! *snort* HAHAHAHAHAAHAH!” I laughed all the way upstairs and coerced my hubby to go look in on her too. I’m dying over this new nightly dress-up ritual. It's like playing "mystery date" and seeing a new creature in odd get-up every time you open the door! She comes upstairs. “Mom, don’t blog about this. PLEASE? You better not be blogging about this!” (Who, me?) Haha! She knows me too well...*

I’m folding clothes in the laundry room and our 9-year-old walks in. “Mom?” he asks. I nod, not pausing to look up from the laundry. “What are the birds and the bees?” (Suddenly he has my rapt attention.) “Well, it’s about S-E-X. Actually, not so much about that. More about reproduction. How they make babies.” “Oh, does our family have talks about the birds and the bees?” “Yes, we do.” “What age do we have the birds and the bees talk in our family?” “We don’t have a set age, honey. It depends on the child, and when they’re ready. Why?” “Oh, because Colby’s family does it at age 10, and Isaac’s family does it after you turn 8.” “Hmmm...Do you think you’re ready for a talk like that?” “Me? Sick! No way! I was just wondering if we do those. I don’t want to hear about any of that stuff right now!” And he took off. I sighed. And grinned.


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*Of course I got her permission before posting this!
Friday Fragments is the brainchild of Mrs4444 over at Half Past Kissin' Time.