Now, not only does the Princess tell me exactly what she wants for snack (for example: Nutella-on-graham-crackers-with-chocolate-chips-you-put-them-on OR Nutella-on-graham-crackers-with-chocolate-chips-I’ll-put-them-on), NOW she dictates how I bring it to her. “On that black tray because I’m the princess.”
Almost-asleep-Maggie: Mama, everything looks green. Does it look green to you? (No) look at the walls! They look green! (They ARE green.) Oh.
Me: it’s 1:22 here so that means it’s 3:22 at Meema’s house.
Tommy: so one hour difference.
Me: no. Two.
Tommy: well by my calculations, it’s one.
Maggie: I agree with Tommo.
Tommy: for some reason, when you’re a teenager, you text a lot.
I’m not going to write a letter to Santa. He’s not even real. If he was real, why don’t people go up there and check it out. There’s probably just raw fish there.
Maggie: I just made up a new halloween game. It’s called “duck duck spider”.
[She quickly revised it to “pumpkin, pumpkin, spider”.]
Maggie: is there any way that food can get all the way from my stomach all the way to my neck? [yes. That’s called puking]
No, I mean like if it stacks up because I eat so much. Is that possible?
More Maggie stream on consciousness: Tommy! Demonstrate how you were born! Demonstrate! [switching to deep voice] and now I’m talking like a boy.
Maggie: what does ‘nonsense’ mean? Oh like when I talk? I hope an earthquake doesn’t knock down my favorite McDonalds. I love McDonalds. Am I talking nonsense again?
My kids’ thoughts on the earthquake as it happened were predictably entertaining. Maggie thought a truck of unusual size was driving by (although she couldn’t imagine a truck that big), and Tommy thought Maggie was stomping around his bed and messing thing up.
Me: FedEx is here.
Maggie: I’ll take care of it.
Me: ok
Mags: really?! I can bring the boxes in and everything?
[high pitched squeal voice] I’m like a human!!!