Me, to Husband: I was just telling Mom that I would rather raise kids in the time period when she was raising kids, because we didn’t have all this Internet and smartphone stuff.
8-year-old: Yeah, and you didn’t have TV.
Husband: We had TV. It wasn’t flat, though.
8-year-old: And it was black and white.
Husband: No, we had color.
8-year-old: But it was something to brag about.
Me: We are not having a bake sale.
8-year-old: But I want to make money!
Me: There are better ways to make money.
8-year-old: But you could get me Pinterest.
Me:
8-year-old:
Me: Trust me, you don’t want to get on Pinterest.
8-year-old: Yeah, I guess it doesn’t work for you.
Me: While you guys were gone, your girlfriends kept knocking on the door asking to play.
8-year-old: Did you answer the door?
Me: No.
8-year-old: That’s not cool. They might think we were murdered.
Me: Ha. I don’t think so, baby.
8-year-old: What? No one knows what’s going on in the mind of a little girl.
And a special bonus:
Husband, on text: Wanna hear a joke?
Me: Umm…Is it really a a joke? Or just bad news disguised as a joke?
Husband: The past, the present, and the future walk into a bar.
Me:
Husband: It was tense.
Me: I can just imagine you downstairs snickering into your hand.
