Death by garage door

Something about the motor in our garage door is broken. You have to push it up and down by hand if you want to get out. Naturally, I accompany this action with dire warnings about how Abe and Seb should leave that job to the adults.

Still, as you can imagine, I was somewhat alarmed to overhear the following:

Seb: Can you close the gawage, Abey?

Abe: Sebby! No! I can't touch the garage door! It will kill me! And it will kill you, too, Sebby! It will kill both of us if we touch it!

Seb: And it will kill Mommy, too.

Abe: No, it doesn't kill Mommy. She's not a kid, she's an adult.

Seb: Yes, it DOES it kill Mommy!

Abe: No, Sebby!

Seb: Yes, it DOES kill Mommy!

Abe: Well, it might kill Mommy, but it kills us too!


  1. I'm laughing so hard. NOthing else to say. I'm just laughing because I can totally picture this exchange. And please don't get killed. Any of you.

  2. I've been meaning to email you our latest disgusting fiasco, but it relates to children's antics, so I'll just leave a LOoOOong comment here:
    To preface the story, Joel has a horn from Mexico made from a cow's horn and about two feet of black plastic pipe that used to be twisted and tied in a circle, but now is just in the shape of a curve, since the strings have come off it.
    I hear my kids being loud, then quiet upstairs. I go to the bottom of the stairs and say, "Lincoln," who, when he hears this, darts out of the bathroom into his room. I call him again and ask, "What have you been doing?" He puts his hands on his cheeks and in a trembling voice says, "the truth?"
    "The truth."
    "Well, me and Asher had to go pee at the same time and then we started having a war. And then Asher had the idea of peeing into the horn into the toilet...but it didn't work." I look at Lincoln's shorts which are soaked from the top butten to his knees with, well, you know what. I say, "You will clean up the bathroom and then you're going to call dad and tell him what you did."
    2 minutes later: me, dialing Joel's cell #; he picks up, "Your son has something to tell you." I say, handing the phone to Linc, who retells his dark deeds. After a minute Lincoln hands the phone back and says, "Dad wants to talk to you."
    I'm expecting something...BIG. It's already been a rough morning with the boys, other than the pee incident, being naughty and ridiculous.
    His response? "Yeah, just throw the horn away. I don't really care about it."
    ...'Thanks, Hon, I think to myself as I grit my teeth. That's really helpful.'

  3. Wow! That story wins Bad Idea of the day. What were they thinking?? Sometimes I just don't understand how boys' little brains work. And way to show a little backbone, Joel. :)


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