Of course it’s well-known and at times well-documented that the best conversations with my kids take place in the car.
Last week we had a discussion (prompted by the morning drive-time radio show) about what we should give up for Lent. I mused about previous years:
Me: So far I’ve given up chocolate, tea and soda. Not sure what I should give up this year…
Jacob: I’m not giving up anything. Jesus already died so I don’t have to give up stuff.
Ben: I’m giving up soda. And candy.
Me: (thinking of my future lower dental bills) Good idea, Ben.
Jacob: (to me) Why don’t you give up reading?
Danny: (apparently half-listening) Then she’ll turn blue and pass out.
Me: He said reading, not breathing. (But really, for me, pretty much the same thing.) Maybe I’ll give up fast food. Or Coke. Or just Coke at Sonic.
As a side note: I’ve given up fast food. And don’t miss it one bit. Except for Saturday when I bought Ben Chick-fil-A for breakfast after his soccer game. The chicken minis were calling for me…
Last night on the way to Jacob’s guitar lesson, then to Ben’s baseball practice. Someone brought up The Vagina Monologues.
Me: Oh, one of Joan’s relatives invited her to a performance in Dallas this week.
Jacob: Have you been to one?
Me: No and the funny thing is, Joan’s son Austin responded Yes to the RSVP.
Jacob: Austin wanted to go? Does he even know what a vagina is?
Me: He’s your age. I’m pretty sure he does.
Jacob: What are The Vagina Monologues?
Me: It’s just some woman sitting on a stage talking about woman stuff, I guess.
Ben: (finally commenting from the back seat—in his best ‘vagina voice’) Hello. It’s me. I’m itchy.
Remind me to check my insurance policy. I’m not sure I should be driving with my children in the car anymore.