During Sacrament Meeting on Sunday, Ryan held up a picture he had colored for me.
Chloe glanced at it, and immediately gave him an encouraging thumbs up while whispering, “Ryan, that’s REALLLY pretty!” Chloe's over-exuberance, especially when the "picture" was really just a tiny scrap of paper containing a few yellow crayon marks made me chuckle, but it was Ryan's response that finished the deal.
Virtually offended that Chloe would have the nerve to tell him his picture was "pretty," he arguably whispered back, “No! It’s NOT pretty! It’s a monster! And it says roaaaarrrrrr!”
Then while driving home from church, Chloe said, “Hey Ryan, when we get home, do you wanna put regular clothes on and pretend we’re homeless?”
Here's a gist of the conversation Chloe and I had while driving to school Monday morning:
Chloe: “Mom, is it more proper to call Ty’s daddy 'Brother Holt' than it is to call him 'Spencer'?"
Me: "Well, yes, it actually is. When we are at church, especially, we should always refer to adults as 'Brother' or 'Sister' followed by their last name."
Chloe: "What if I don’t know their last name?"
Me: "Then you can politely ask them what it is."
Chloe: "And adults are 18, right?"
Me: "Yes, you are technically an adult when you turn 18."
Chloe: "And that’s when you get kicked out of the house!? That’s what daddy says anyway."
Chloe: "Wait, is it 18 or 80?" Funny kid. And I am positive that Chloe was accurately quoting her father. He frequently jokes about what a glorious day it will be when the kids turn 18, though I'm not sure he's really joking. Sometimes I can't blame him.
Shortly after being reprimanded for something small, Ryan asked, “Do I get an 'X' on my chart when I get home?”
Me: “Well, do you think you deserve one?”
Ryan: “No. So can I get a marshmallow instead?”
Ryan: “Mom, if you color on this...” (pointing to his Thomas & Friends coloring book), "...I’ll give you one of those...” (pointing to a glass jar of candy hearts), “...k?”
Clearly he's grasped the concept of bribery.
Yesterday on our way home from Chloe's ballet class, and after asking me a hundred times if we could go to McDonald's, both before and after her class, Ryan just to more boldly get his point across, said, "I really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really want to go to McDonald's."
I should also share this fun experience from last weekend, when the kids, as usual, attempted to prolong bedtime. This, by the way, represents a typical night for us.
So picture this. It's 7:15pm. Kids have both just been tucked into bed. I'm in our room separating freshly folded laundry and getting ready to put everything away. Chloe suddenly steps out of her bedroom and says, while pointing to the hall light just ahead, "Oh. I was just going to ask why that light was still on."
Instantly I recognize her efforts in prolonging the time before she has to go to sleep.
"It's because I'm still upstairs putting clothes away. I'll turn it off when I'm done. Goodnight, Chloe!"
Clearly oblivious to my irritation, Chloe then races down the hall (passing Ryan's room along the way) into my room to give me "one more" hug and kiss before racing back down the hall (again passing Ryan's room) into hers.
A few seconds later, and just as I could have predicted, Ryan emerges from his room and stands in my doorway.
"Why did I hear running?" Now he's come up with an excuse to get out of bed.
"It was Chloe, but she's back in her room now. Go back to bed!"
Ryan, having taken a few steps closer, "Why was Chloe in here?"
"That is a good question, Ryan. Now go back to bed!"
Ryan, now standing within a foot of the many piles of laundry surrounding me, "But why did she come in here?"
"It doesn't matter, Ryan! It's time for you to go to bed! GoodNIGHT!"
And once again, I see Chloe outside her bedroom door, peering back down the hall and asking, "Mommy, why do I hear you and Ryan talking?"
"Oh. My. Gosh. Both of you! GO TO BED! NOW!!!!!!!!"
Both Chloe and Ryan promptly turn around, race back to their rooms, and crawl into their beds, not to be seen again for the night. I shake my head, mutter a few unkind words to myself, finish putting clothes away, MAKE SURE to turn the hall light off so not to produce further questions from my six-year-old, and head downstairs.
Just as I approach the final steps, I hear Chloe say, "Goodnight, Mommy!" followed by Ryan, who repeats his sister's words. "Goodnight, Mommy!"
I sure do love those kids, but man, they suck the energy out of me sometimes. This scenario is only one of MANY like it where they manage to complicate something that isn't complicated at all, like a hall light.
It's a good thing they're so dang cute.
Some days that's their only saving grace!