Kiss My Grits, Keep On Truckin, et al
On any given day one of my kids falls down. One of those oblivous stumbles where they trip over toys or shoes because they are running too fast or not paying attention. Yesterday it was Sam. He was goofing off and tripped backward over a bag of his baseball gear (that I'd asked him to move 100 times). He kind of ran in place for a few steps, arms like propellers trying to keep himself upright before he actually fell.
Thankfully it was Sam. He's good natured about this sort of thing and thought it was just as funny as I did. (Not so Jake. If he fell he would've sulked for an hour. Make a joke about it and he would sulk all night - probably after telling you you were stupid and throwing something.)
But just to drive home Sam's humiliation, I pulled a goody out of the 1970s quip bag, and said, "Smooth move, Ex Lax."
About 20 minutes later Sam and I were playing "hacky sack" in the front yard. He tossed me the ball and somehow it bounced off my foot and my stomach and hit me square in the face. So now it was Sam's turn: "Smooth move, Netflix," he teased.
Thankfully it was Sam. He's good natured about this sort of thing and thought it was just as funny as I did. (Not so Jake. If he fell he would've sulked for an hour. Make a joke about it and he would sulk all night - probably after telling you you were stupid and throwing something.)
But just to drive home Sam's humiliation, I pulled a goody out of the 1970s quip bag, and said, "Smooth move, Ex Lax."
About 20 minutes later Sam and I were playing "hacky sack" in the front yard. He tossed me the ball and somehow it bounced off my foot and my stomach and hit me square in the face. So now it was Sam's turn: "Smooth move, Netflix," he teased.
posted by Romine Family at 12:43 PM
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