Maj points out the car window on the drive over to Trader Joe’s, “What is a check-cashing place?”
Mark answers, “Somewhere you can go to get a check cashed when you don’t have a bank account. They charge you some money to cash your check.”
Maj is puzzled, “Why would you pay someone to give you your money? That’s stupid.”
Mark launches into a story to explain, “A long time ago, I had a job working in a machine tool factory and they paid us every Friday and we would all go to this bar and they had a little stand in the back and we would cash our checks there and then hang out and have a few beers and eat.”
Maj is still puzzled, “What does that have to do with anything, Daddy?”
Kallan is pretty sure she knows, “Daddy means there were cute girls at the bar, Maj. He traded his money to the cute girls. No bank required.”
Snort!
I reach over to lay a hand on Mark’s shoulder, “Pretty much, right babe?”
Kallan continues, “Cute girls in bikinis, probably.”
Maj turns to her sister, “Why are these girls in the bar in bikinis?”
I smack at Mark’s shoulder, “Hey, babe! Remember that one time down in San Diego, long time ago? We were at a restaurant having a drink, and then suddenly we were in the middle of a lingerie show! Remember? Cute girls wearing bras and panties just walking around the restaurant! Remember that? What was that about, anyway?”
Mark smiles, “I remember that! That was weird. I remember I offered to buy you something, and you said no.”
Maj leans forward, “You offered to buy Mother underwear while you were eating lunch? Underwear that was walking by you on a stranger? That is inappropriate, Daddy. Extremely inappropriate.”
Snort!
And now we’re at Trader Joe’s.
I hate grocery shopping. Maj hates crowds.
Trader Joe’s is filled with groceries and crowd.
So Maj and I wander around the edges of the store while Mark and Kallan do the actual shopping.
Maj is thirsty, and she is so thirsty?
She sounds like this . . . but really loud . . .
“I am dying of thirst, Mother. I checked by the bathroom and there is no drinking fountain, and while I know you said that the water in the toilet tank is clean enough to drink, I assume you don’t actually mean for me to take the top off of the tank and dip my head in. Don’t even suggest that I make a cup of my hand under the bathroom sink, because that sink has nothing but pee in it. All those people using the bathroom all sloppy with the wiping, all covered with pee, all turning on the faucets with their dripping hands of pee. I am not drinking that water, Mother. Not even.”
“Babe, you are not going to die of thirst. We’ll be home in a while, and you can drink to your heart’s content.”
“They have drinks here, you know. You could buy me a drink.”
“Not going to happen.”
Maj is annoyed, “Well, aren’t you just Mother of the Year?”
“I try, Maj.”
“I did not actually mean that you are in the running for Mother of the Year, you know. Hence the sarcasm.”
I laugh, “Did you just say hence the sarcasm? That’s fabulous!”
Maj giggles, “I am thirsty, Mother. I will nominate you for Mother of the Year if you buy me a drink. And I am not even hencing!”
“No drink.”
“AUGH! I will just drink my own urine, then! I have read that you can do that, Mother. I will drink my own urine to keep from thirsting to death here in Trader Joe’s.”
“Want me to see if someone has a cup for you to pee in? Or are you just going to lick it up off of the floor?”
“Seriously, Mother? You would let your daughter pee on the floor and lick it up before you would buy her a drink? Seriously, Mother?”
“Yup.”
She stares at me, “So pretty much, there are no standards for being a mother? None?”
I walk a little imaginary runway walk and do a little model twirl, “Babe, you do not even know how lucky you are. Look at me! I am all kinds of fabulous.”
“You are embarrassing me! Stop pretending you are an underwear model in a bar!”
OK, she called that one. I twirl again, “Look at me! I am Mother of the Year!”
“Are you kidding me, Mother? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”
I pull her into a hug, “Yes, babe. Hence the sarcasm.”
Hee hee!
Maj is taking lessons from Kallan?!?
You are doomed
Maj has her moments.
She gets all crazed in a crowd.
Crazed and loud.
Hee hee!
BAHAHAHAHA!
Sarcasm is awesome!
If I was not sarcastic my family would think there was something wrong with me!
Snort!
Same here.
When I am all sincere?
My children eye me suspiciously.
What a cute post. Sounds like you have a great relationship with your girls (I assume they’re both girls). How old are they? After reading the dialogue, I can only assume they’ll turn into sweet young things like my girls. Hence the sarcasm that is! Oh yeah, aren’t they 9 and 11? No response necessary as I remembered the pertinent details. I wish we had a Trader Joes here.
Hee hee!
We are all cute.
Snort!
Oh how I love this. “Hence the sarcasm”. She definitely is your child.
Hee hee!
Maj is my daughter.
And then some.
Your daughters sound so much older than their ages. They have the same sarcastic wit that you have. Not too many adults use the word inappropriate. So well spoken. Lol at you saying that she could drink her pee on the floor.
Maj has been harshly judgmental of my mothering abilities since she was born.
She has used the word “inappropriate” to describe unacceptable behavior for as long as I can remember.
Seriously.
Yeah….you would win mother of the year. Find out and I’ll totally send a nomination!! Not even hencing here.
Snort!
How much do I love that she was not even hencing?
Happy sighs.
Your tags remind me of the vanity cards written by Chuck Lorre that get posted at the end of Two and a Half Men episodes only better. It is almost a post in and of itself. :)
Thank you!
I love my tags.
Even if they serve no SEO function whatsoever.
I love my tags.
Not really. Just the other day I was Googling “I hate grocery shopping and Maj hates crowds and the two of us should have just stayed home” and you came up first. Congratulations. You are the Queen of SEO.
You have made me giggle hysterically!
Oh, if only people typed things like that into Google!
How awesome would that be?
Snort!
Are you implying that I did not search for the phrase “I hate grocery shopping and Maj hates crowds and the two of us should have just stayed home?” That, madame, is exactly how I use my spare time. You owe me an apology.
I will give you the same sort of rolling-eyes sarcastic apology I get from my daughters.
By which I mean . . .
No apology.
Huge points to Maj for her use of “hence” in a verbal sparring match.
I wish you two shopped at my Trader Joe’s….
Maj and I don’t actually shop.
We hang out on the perimeter of the store and loudly discuss our unhappiness.
And we whine a lot.
Mark and Kallan love us.
Yes, well. That’s what I’m wishing for, exciting and entertaining eavesdropping opportunities on the friges while I stock up on cheap wine and partially prepared deliciousness.
Felix and I are much more Mark and Kallan-esque, though, when we’re actually in the aisles.
OK, plus also?
Maj and I overheard THE BEST BOSS-EMPLOYEE CONVERSATION EVER!
Saving that for another day.
Seriously . . . I pretty much have fun wherever I go.
Love that.
There are a lot of strip clubs up here in Oregon because wet cold weather requires a lot of nudity,
OH yeah. I’m getting a belly-ache over here, laughing, hysterically.
Which is just what I needed today.
and still, having been a camp counselor who mostly worked with 9-12 year-old girl scouts?
I can SO hear her voice.
“Stop pretending you are an underwear model in a bar!”
Nothing further would have happened if I were you, because I haven’t mastered the art of not laughing at my kids’ absurdity. I would have just laughed at her. Doubled over; laughing till I peed. On the grocery store floor.
There are so many strip clubs here!
So many.
Right in the middle of residential neighborhoods. Right next to grocery stores. All over the place.
Craziness.
And I did not even laugh!
I was surprised she realized what I was doing, and caught a little off guard.
But I did not even laugh!
I am all mature!
Yay!
Drink her own urine? She really was desperate. Tell her it isn’t the pee she has to worry about.
Just for the record?
We had been away from our house for less than an hour when the deadly thirst set in.
Snort!
And no way am I going to remind Maj of what other ickiness might be in the bathroom sink.
Maj is germ-phobic enough without me helping her out.
Sigh.
Could be worse. She could be like one of my little piglets. I have more pictures of them covered in mud than prettied up I think. *shrug Hillbilly kids, whatchya goin’ to do.
Things can always be worse.
And here in the secrecy of my comments?
I adore my children this way!
They are all kinds of smart-ass and sarcastic, and I adore them.
One of your fans is suggesting you have stalkers in your commenters. I had to set the record straight. lol.
And in the last week since the wittiness has surfaced in my previously silent daughter-serious snoopy dancing happening.
Yay!
Love the Snoopy dance of celebration!
Happy sighs.
Yay!
pretty much, there are no standards for being a mother.
pretty much. snort! and sigh. so wise.
Did you see my tag?
There are no standards for being a mother and I exceed those standards.
Snort!
OK, how many ways do I love this post? I can not even begin to describe how perfectly it trips along with great lines flying off left and right, and then ties itself up so neatly with that last line.
Not only are you “Mother of the Year”, you are also “Writer of the Year”.
Just. Awesome.
Another contest for me to enter and not win!
Snort!
But how much do I love you and your compliments?
So fucking much.
Thank you!
I love Maj.
She makes me want to have a daughter.
So does Kallan.
My oldest boy has quite a way with words though. I might have lucked out with the boys I have.
One can only hope.
My daughters?
Are the best conversationalists in the world.
I love talking to them.
Even when they giving me all kinds of shit?
I love to hear their words.
Swoon.
I so adore Maj.There is nothing so lovely as witnessing the proper growth and development of snark in preteen girls. Husbands of the future? You are so screwed.
I cannot even begin to imagine the man who eventually marry Maj.
Yikes.
I love Maj. She would so make me laugh…
Thank you for all this, I love it.
Truly.
In a house of 4 boys, I get basic verbal communication, basic.
Like, one grunt for yes, no response means no.
Yeah, starving for Maj here.
There is so much talking at our house.
Endless talking.
I have only to stop and breathe in the words and remember . . .
And there is a story.
I love words.
Love this family of wordy people.
Happy sighs.