In 30 minutes this morning, my three kids barraged with me these questions (I actually wrote them down once I realized the question attack was on, although it was a coordinated venture, as far as I can tell):
- Can you get me a bowl (me: cereal)? Can you get the milk? Is that a spoon? (7 yr old)
- My pajamies has milk on it. Can you get it off? (3 yr old)
- This spoon is too small. Can you get me a big spoon?( 3 yr old)
- Can you read me a book? (10 yr old)
- What’s that right there? (me: it’s a crock pot) I don’t like crockpots. (3 yr old)
- What’s chili? (me: kind of like soup, but spicy) It’s not soup! I don’t like chili. (3 yr old)
- Can we see Lord of the Rings? (me: no, too scary) You always say that! (10 yr old)
- Can you help fix my shade? (me: your shade? what’s wrong with your shade. Who yanked it all the way up?) Me. (me: why?) Don’t know. (7 yr old)
- I don’t have my other sock. Daddy, can you find it? (3 yr old) — sock found in bed.
- Daddy, when you are done, can I go on NBA.Com? The Celtics play tonight. (7 yr old)
Me: It’s gonna be a long day.
Peace (from the answer man),