Monopoly

The boys love to play Monopoly. We have two different Star Wars editions of the game. They’re playing the Classic Trilogy one right now.

C: “The bank only has $400 left. You know why?”

Me: “Because you robbed the bank?”

C: “Yup.”

Me: “You wouldn’t rob a bank in real life, though.”

C: “No, only in the game.”

D: “You would go to prison.”

C: “But I can do it in Monopoly cause it’s my rules.”

D: “We only pay for property, we don’t pay for anything else. And we rob the bank.”

C: “Since you’re a nice brother, you don’t have to pay.”

D: “Because I’m a nice brother, I’ll give one hundred to you and one hundred to me.”

C: “Here you go, here’s fifty dollars. Buy yourself something nice. Buy a property or something.”

Clearly they are not budding mercenaries, but budding CEOs. They’ve already got Wall Street logic down.

Recent kid funnies

C: “Stop looking at that book and start cleaning! You want me to clean all this up by myself, it is not fair!”
D: “You are not the boss of me!”
C: “Yes I am, I am older!”

D while putting together a new Lego set: “I’m definitely going to keep this set together, some of these pieces I’ve never had before. This is like the best set ever. It’s like a collector’s item.”

C while drawing portraits of “the spheres”, their round little stuffed animals: ”Who’s a good panda? You’re a good panda!”

D while discussing Doctor Who: ”I love the Daleks, they’re so cool. They keep on exterminating everybody.”

D while watching a video of his brother singing “The Butts Tune”: ”I love that. I want to see it like a hundred times.”

D: “I have good news, Mommy. We have cleaned out all of the toy bins and put the toys where they belong.”
C: “I have more good news. We have built a Death Star.”

And the boys on my birthday: ”Happy birthday Mommy! Now you are 34 years old. Next year you can be president.”

Buried or that other thing

Today we spent a few hours sorting out the toy bins and reorganizing the boys’ room a bit. The conversation wandered from helpful hints at telling the difference between Lego and K’nex to the price of college tuition, and eventually the topic got onto whether or not the boys would get married when they grew up.

“Eh,” said D noncommittally. “Why do people want to get married?”

“It’s nice to have somebody to love,” I said.

“We will have you to love forever,” D told me. “Well, until you die.”

“Yes,” I agreed. They’re quite cavalier about mentioning my future death. These practical earth signs, I tell ya.

“So when you die,” C said, “you can be buried, or what’s that other thing?”

“Cremated,” I told him. “They burn your body to ashes.”

Then we discussed what burial entails for a few minutes, including embalming which they thought sounded like a waste of time (“you will just turn to a skeleton anyway”), and then C asked me, “Which one do you want to be after you die?”

“Cremated.”

“Why?” D asked.

“Because it’s cheaper,” I told him.

“How much does it cost to be buried?” D asked.

“Like twenty thousand dollars or more,” I said.

His eyes got huge. “That is a lot of money. How much is it to be cremated?”

“More like a thousand, I’m not sure exactly.”

“That is still a lot of money,” C put in, with the sort of expression on his face that I have when I look on craigslist and see delusional prices on used furniture. “Maybe we’ll just set you on fire ourselves when you die.”

I started laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe, and C kept saying “What?” and staring at me like I was crazy. Then That Man called from Jordan and I told him what they’d said, and he gave them permission to burn him themselves after he dies in either a Jedi or Viking style, either way. They thought that seemed like a good idea, especially the boat-in-a-lake-flaming-arrow Viking burial.

I guess they’ll save a few bucks when Mommy and Daddy die by DIYing the cremation.

Knock Knock

The boys have been thinking up lots of knock-knock jokes for all your holiday needs, based on the Interrupting Cow template.

Knock knock.

Who’s there?

Interrupting cow.

Interrupting cow -

MOO!

So now there’s versions for Christmas, Easter, Halloween, and Fourth of July.

Knock knock.

Who’s there?

Interrupting Santa.

Interrupting Santa -

HO HO HO!

 

Knock knock.

Who’s there?

Interrupting pumpkin.

Interrupting pumpkin -

BOO!

 

Knock knock.

Who’s there?

Interrupting Easter Bunny.

Interrupting Easter Bunny -

EGGS!

 

Knock knock.

Who’s there?

Interrupting Fourth of July.

Interrupting Fourth of July -

FIREWORKS!

Leaf pile

Photos from the giant leaf pile today.