My 10 year old daughter and my 8 year old son are both clever, highly intelligent, very imaginative children. They’re also both very strong-willed. Very strong-willed.
Sometimes they try to resolve their differences by trying to kill each other.
After pulling them off one another (for the fifteenth time this week) yesterday, I discovered that my son had four large scratches across his chest. Hubby sent daughter to her room to cool down, then looks at me and says something like, “She gets that from you and your demon blood.” Commence glaring (to which he covers his eyes and flees, screeching, “Don’t look her in the eyes! You’ll turn to stone!”)
I love my kids. Even when they’re trying to kill each other or plot world domination (as my son has promised to do with the help of a microwave and a toaster. I'm not sure how that works, but he says he has a plan).
See how sweet & innocent they look?
I taught them how to cover up their more evil intentions quite well! ahem.
They really are the brightest, best moments in my days (& life). And the things they come up with amaze me (& crack me up).
“Oshawatt! You’re so adorable! That’s why I have to kill you.” – Ash (She was playing something with Pokemon?)
“If I murder the chickens, there will be no more chicken nuggets.” – Ash
“Wouldn’t that make chicken nuggets?” – Nic
(They’re playing Minecraft. I didn’t realise there was so much chicken murdering in Minecraft. Or.. any, really.)
[originally written 2-10-13. I'm moving posts from the old blog to the new one. /edit: Oh look, I figured out how to change the posting date. Whee.]
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