I was just saying to my sister yesterday that my kids weren't doing/saying very funny stuff lately.
And then I was wondering out loud if they were doing/saying funny stuff, but I was just too busy or tired to notice. After all, among other things, I am in the midst of trying to complete 25 parent conferences before October 20. (Four down, 21 to go. Piece o' cake. Or ice cream, as the case may be, because I have bribed them with an ice cream party if I can meet with all of their parents before October 20. Yes, I am the teacher you hate who gets your child to bug you and pester you until you do something you don't have time for, or don't want to do with the promise of protein-filled-sweet treats like ice cream. Because candy is bad. You're welcome.)
Well, my dear readers, today the gods of kids saying funny stuff smiled down on me. In the most AWESOMELY fantastical* way. Enjoy!
Conversation #1 (at recess):
Silly Willy: I used to work at a kid factory.
Me: Really? What did you make there?
Silly Willy: Mostly donuts and cakes.
Me: Oh? So, you didn't make kids at the kid factory?
Silly Willy: Yeah, sometimes I made kids... chocolate and vanilla ones. Like, I'm chocolate. And you're vanilla.
Me: (chuckling) Really? Oh. I see.
Silly Willy: Yeah, I'm chocolate, and you're vanilla, and you have a little bit of strawberry on top too. [GRIN]
*Conversation #2 (reading Junie B. Jones after lunch... The Artist comes in late, after I've already started reading... I stop reading and address him because I hadn't realized he was missing, and figure I should find out where he was):
Me: Where were you?
Artist: I had to go to the nurse because I hurt my balls.
Me: Whaaat???!!?!! (Trying to control the alarm in my voice the same way I did when Cutie Pie said he wanted to dominate someone.)
The Precocious One: (ever the helper) I think he means his private parts.
Artist: (much louder now) I had to go to the nurse because I hurt my balls!
--(Now the kids are all giggling and laughing, and I'm wishing I hadn't asked him to repeat himself.)--
Me: (having confirmed that he did say what I thought he said, and meant what I thought he meant, I'm smiling a little in spite of trying not to, and suppressing a 7th grade-style-giggle myself...) Umm. Ok. How did you do that? No, nevermind. Have a seat and listen to the story. (quickly turning my attention back to read Junie B. Jones)...
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