Ender: Mama-mama-mama! I peed-peed-peed on the floo-ooor!
Jane: Oh, Ender, I’m going to cry. Why? Again?
Ender: Oh, don’t cry my-mama-mama. I love you! And pee easy to clean up. Not like poopie bum.
Cinder: Mom, [X] needs a secret name for the blog for when you write about him and me. Hey, dude, what do you want your name to be?
[X]: Umm… Farty McFarty.
(This is how you know [X] is a nine-year-old boy.)
Jane: Seriously, you want me to call you Farty McFarty?
(I’m rethinking the strategy of letting the kids pick their own aliases. Flora is pushing Emerald for one of her friends. “Um… how about Emma? Or Emmy?” I counter-offer. No. Emerald or nothing. Fortunately, “Emerald” doesn’t figure in most of my stories. She doesn’t talk much… And if I have to call her Emerald, she won’t ever say anything memorable. It just won’t happen. I try to explain this to Flora. Meanwhile, in the far back seat of the van:)
[X]: What’re you called?
[X]: Huh. That’s cool. Cinder. Hmmm. OK, I know. I’ll be Creeper.
Cinder: Yes! Cinder and Creeper! Those are epic!
Sean: Jesus, Ender, what are you doing with Mommy’s razor?
Ender: Shaving the whales.
I could explain… but I think you’ll have more fun trying to guess the context.
Why we can’t ever give strangers’ rides in our van:
Cinder: I have a weenie. I have a weenie. Oooh-oooh-oooh, I have a weenie…
Sean: Cinder, I’m very easily annoyed today, and that song is beyond annoying me right now. You have to stop.
Cinder: Just one more time?
Sean: Fine. Just one more time. And then–silence.
Cinder: I have a weenie. I have a weenie. Oooh-oooh-oooh, I have a weenie… tooooo-niiiiiiiteeeee…
Ender (waking up from a nap and immediately bursting into): I have a weenie. I have a weenie. Oooh-oooh-oooh, I have a weenie… tooooo-niiiiiiiteeeee…
Cinder and Ender in tandem: I have a weenie. I have a weenie. Oooh-oooh-oooh, I have a weenie… tooooo-niiiiiiiteeeee…
Sean: Wow, did Ender ever just save you.
Flora: Why is cute when Ender does it and just obnoxious when Cinder does it?
Jane: Evolutionary survival mechanism.
Cinder: She means toddlers have to be cute no matter what they do so their parents don’t kill them. One more time, Ender?
Ender: I have a weenie…
No place is safe. Not even Ikea.
Cinder: Hey, Mom? What do you get when you take the “I” out of “AS IS”?
Jane: What do you get when you take the I… Cinder!
Cinder: Aren’t you going to say it?
Cinder: But the whole purpose of me reading that sign and telling you I could read it was so that you would say “ASS” really loud in a public place. All that reading, for nothing.
Jane: You read four bloody letters.
Cinder: Just say it. Or would you rather I said it, in my loudest voice ever?
What would you do?