Alex first, because right now there's more material. For instance, on tonight's episode of "Lost," regarding the mysterious black horse who appeared in the jungle and appears to be tame:
Me: "Well, there's a great opportunity for a beast of burden, which would come in pretty handy...or, in your mind, probably a meal."
Alex: "Yep. Eat 'im."
Me: "But he's mystical."
Alex: "Mystically delicious."
AND RECENTLY, discussing school days--I actually wrote this gem down so I wouldn't forget it, and then passed out laughing:
Alex: "We had this teacher--he looked like a nose--who would do the Big Fig Newton dance..."
And on school lunches--my high school had multiple choice "lines"--salads, hot plate lunch, candy/snacks, and junky fast-food stuff, which is what most people ate. Alex's had no choices, just a hot lunch and milk, which I think is a much better situation for growing teens. Anyway, a couple of things stuck with me from that convo:
Alex: "On Fridays, there were hot, fresh, homemade cinnamon rolls, and the whole place smelled like sweet, yeasty baking rolls all morning. By the time lunch rolled around, you were a slobberin' idiot."
"But oh, nothing compared to WACKY CAKE day. You were allowed to buy an extra piece, and if you played your cards right and traded and bribed other people, you could get their extra pieces too. You could conceivably get about 6 pieces of Wacky Cake, but you really had to get your hustle on." The concept of "gettin' your hustle on" for something called "Wacky Cake" just destroys me.
And Bella today, upon examining a can of Green Giant peas, particularly Mr. Jolly G.G. himself, declared, "He is a great, great man! He is my Daddy! He is STRONG and GREAT and AWESOME, and his name is Alex!" Sheesh. Not a word about the greenness or the leafy one-shouldered minidress.