Lizzy is going flying with her grandfather tomorrow (weather permitting) for a birthday treat, and so she and I have been going over our radio code words. I think my favorite was when I asked her the code for F (I gave her the hint that it is the name of a dance) and she said, "Flamenco."
And that reminded me that this, the first week of school and Lizzy's birthday week has had the best one-liners out of the mouths of my gamers' babes.
Last night, as Lizzy and I ate her Mom-and-Me Birthday Dinner (at the always-fabulous Lynnwood branch of the Old Spaghetti Factory), she looked at me with exasperation and said, "Mom! Please don't be Grandma about my table manners on my birthday!"
She was also very not-subtle about wanting to have them sing to her; she kept remarking that she "heard another person get sung to." Loudly enough to be heard by other tables even in a busy family restaurant on a Friday night.
Abby informed me with great seriousness on Friday that she now understands why "adults swear at other drivers. Because now I know, Mom, I've been in junior high school hallways between classes."
Speaking of other drivers, my mom referred to our mutual landlord as "Dick" (it is his nickname, short for Richard, but I don't call him that because I met him when I was a child) the other day while passing his truck in the street. Lizzy was absolutely horrified, because she always thought Grandma liked Mr G.
Of course, this is the child who thinks I'm swearing every time I use the word "asphalt." Why "assume" and "assassin" do not trigger the same indignation, I'm not sure.
It's been that sort of week.
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