Last weekend Alice was eating a snack at the kitchen table while The Mama and The Dada chatted away in the kitchen. About what? Who knows. The Mama doesn’t shy away from conversation, so I have a hard time keeping track of the substance of particular talks. Shoot me.
Whatever it was we were talking about, it involved some laughter and a bit of noise. At one point, I told The Dada, “Cut it out!” Apparently the oversized hooligans 15-feet away were causing Alice distress, because she demanded, “WHAT! What are you guys talking about?”
The Mama: Mom and Dad are just joking around, Alice.
Alice: Well. Don’t.
(The Dada cracks up out of Alice’s line of sight)
The Mama: We can’t joke?
Alice: Well… it… makes it hard for me to… concentrate on my sandwich.
(The Dada continues to crack up out of Alice’s line of sight)
The Mama: (shoots The Dada The Look) Why don’t you just eat your sandwich?
Alice: Because that’s how I always eat my sandwiches!
(The Dada is still cracking up out of Alice’s line of sight. Seriously? Jerk.)
The Mama: Okay, Alice. (voice dripping with sarcasm) Thanks for outlining the parameters of our conversation.
Alice: (brightly) You’re welcome!
Welcome to our life.