Sometimes, I’d swear I married him. Allow me to explain.
The hubby was at a meeting last night, so I spend some quality time with Parker and Dylan. We were all sitting on the sofa last night after dinner (well, Dylan was still having his dinner, as I was giving him a bottle) when Parker and I had the following conversation.
PARKER: Daddy, why does Dylan scream louder than me?
DADDY: He can’t scream louder than you. You’re a lot bigger than he is. So your lungs are a lot bigger.
PARKER: Does he scream louder than you?
DADDY: Grown-ups aren’t allowed to scream quite as much.
Those who’ve had children or spent time around infants will already know this, but I’d like to point out that Dylan wasn’t exactly quiet during this dialogue. So, I’m not only satisfying the curiosity of a five-year-old, but attempting to satisfy the somewhat less clearly articulated needs of a four-month-old.
Now, back to the scene in progress.
PARKER: Why not?
DADDY: It’s just a rule.
PARKER: Did Butch make that rule?
DADDY: Who? Who’s Butch?
PARKER: Butch, the president.
PARKER: Papa says he wants to melt the country Greenland.
DADDY: Oh really.
Right about here is where I realize what we’re talking about.
PARKER: Yeah. I want to fire him.
DADDY: Well, he’ll lose his job soon.
PARKER: Because nobody likes him?
DADDY: Well, that, and because he’s not very good at it.
PARKER: Okay, then.
DADDY: (muttering) I need to talk to Papa.
DADDY: Oh, nothing.
Sure enough, when the hubby got home, I raised an eyebrow at him and simply asked “So, president Butch wants to melt Greenland, huh?” He immediately started laughing.