This morning we were watching a bit of When We Left Earth (which made me cry a bit, when they circle the moon and start quoting from Genesis), and Caroline became uber-excited. Remember the rapidly shifting career plan? Well, after "play mom" and "cowgirl" we've come full circle back to "astronaut." So she can float in outer space. And ... no kids. Which is sad, but probably a bit more realistically suited to the astronaut life. She does, however, "need a husband." In fact, if she doesn't have one, she "will DIE." I'm not sure if this is just melodrama, or represents her actual feelings about the survival of her own personal species.
She asked me when I can get her her own rocketship that will take her into outer space. Here's what I told her: "Maybe on December 16, 2050."
Because this is my new strategy: when one of children asks their habitual, "When can we get ..." questions -- since I clearly resemble an ATM -- I've stopped saying things like "I don't know," and "oh, maybe sometime," or "I think that would be too expensive." I just make up a date.
When can we get a Santa Claus pez?
- Possibly on August 2.
When can we go to Hey Cupcake?
- Probably on September 28.
And you know what? At least for the girls, these answers completely satisfy. Ian's onto me. But he's been bribed into silence. Because he knows that on May 4, 2010, he can get his very own motorcycle.
Just kidding.
My sister-in-law has a similar strategy with her daughters. Whenever they ask, during a car trip, "Mom, how long 'til we're there?" she answers unequivocally, "In an hour." When they pull into the H-E-B parking lot three minutes later, my nieces are so pleasantly surprised at how quickly that hour has elapsed. Gee, Mom sure knows how to make the time fly!
And, a propos of nothing, I will tell you what I found at Starbucks on Monday during my reading date with my son. 'Twas a basket with a sign reading "FREE. Please take one." Far be it from me to pass up something free, of course, so I approached for a closer look. Lo and behold, there were ginormous bags of coffee grounds all bundled up and ready to be distributed to the compost piles of conscientious Starbucks patrons such as myself. Of course, I grabbed a bag. Hopefully that atoned for the sin of patronizing Starbucks -- a chain! Egads! -- when I could have been doing my part to Keep Austin Weird.
Does Keeping Austin Fertilized count?
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5 comments:
Ooh, I love the arbitrary date idea! Can I steal that? I think I'll use it on, say, April 24th.
I'm stealing the arbitrary date idea, too. :)
And at the risk of missing something obvious, what is H-E-B?
LOL! HEB is our central Texas grocery chain. Caroline informed me a few weeks ago that she had gotten a sticker at "Hebb" and lost it. I asked her what Hebb was, I figured it was a place of some sort. She looked at me a little baffled at my lack of knowledge about her favorite places and said, "It's a store." Ding! The light came on. She meant H-E-B. Silly me.
I get the endless question from the kids, What does H-E-B stand for again? They never remember when I tell them. FYI, it is Howard E. Butt.
LOL! - May 4, 2010!
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