You know how parents are always told to enjoy driving their kids around because we go all invisible and can hear all sorts of stuff? Well, I don’t have the opportunity to drive around the boys with their friends for good gossip, but my two boys on their own are comedy gold.
There’s their variation of Punchbuggy:
Hugbug new red with black soft-top!
Hugbug old silver!
Hugbug old tie-dye SUPER BONUS POINTS!
And the new spin-off:
Jeep! NO Jeep-backs! (I have no freaking idea what this is all about).
The “cover all bases” call-out:
3…2…1…VOLKSWAGON SHOP! (Because, you know, they got tired of calling out all the vehicles).
License plate game:
Blah blah blah tellingmeabouthisday WISCONSIN talkingmoreandmore OREGON continuingwiththemonologue NEWYORK! (They do not breathe around yelling out the state, it’s just part of the sentence structure).
OMG! WIENERMOBILE PLATE!
Did someone fart or are we near cows in Minnesota?
Luke! I’m not your father, I am an octopus!!! (Complete with arm movements and seatbelt-hampered wiggle).
I’m calling the lovies back at home; I suspect they’re having a party while we’re away.
<exasperated sigh> You’re so immature! (Imagine that coming from a 7 year old who is still working on the /r/ sound in speech therapy).
AGH! It’s 3:14!!!! PI TIME!!!! 3.14159blahblahblahIstoplistening
Intense questioning of me:
Mom? What’s Alzheimer’s?
Mom? How do the chickens know to make eggs and not baby chickens? (If I could have banged my head on the steering wheel, I would have).
Mom? Why did you call that driver a fuckknuckle? (In my defense, it was under my breath and they have supersonic hearing when I’m not talking to them. And the driver deserved it).
Blahblahblahthishappened, MEANWHILE (stretch that word out as long as you possibly can and still make it sound like a word)…and brother picks up the story and runs with it.
And this is only what I noted this afternoon in two hours of running errands. Comedy gold, I tell ya!