Wednesday, September 16, 2009

My Car Gets 40 Rods To The Hogshead, And That's The Way I Likes It!

Bella's got a little upper respiratory infection, and has been out of school all week (and can't go back tomorrow, despite testing negative for flu and mono, because she had a low-grade fever today). Today we went to the doctor, and got a prescription for antibiotics and sinus meds. We had to go to Walgreen's to get them filled, and this resulted in a good hour of standing around the store waiting. Waiting is not one of Bella's favorite pastimes. Nor mine, for that matter, but I've gotten a little better at it over the years with practice. She was reading every label and every sign in the store, with running commentary. CONSTANT running commentary. The following was the most memorable portion.


Bella: "One Hour Photo."

Me: "What, Hon?"

Bella: "Over there. 'One Hour Photo.' I think you can have your picture made while you wait!"

Me: "Oh, no, Sweetie, that's a photo developing center. People drop off their film there to be developed, then come back in an hour to pick up their pictures."

Bella: (enunciating the first word slowly and deliberately, as if sampling something new and exotic) "Film? What do you mean?"


And then they called our name, and I paid for her medicine and my Geritol, and came home to soak my dentures.

Wednesday, September 09, 2009

It Was Supposed To Take Longer Than This

...For her to be smarter than me. Still just 6 years old, for another month or so, and in the second grade now, *sniff*, and demonstrably smarter than me. Just a couple of recent examples:

While playing World of Warcraft together (in the desert zone of Tanaris, for you fellow geeks--er, WoW players), I get owned for the 10th time by one of those giant basilisks, and complain to Bella, "These big lizards keep stunning me, and I can't move!" To which my daughter responds by looking at me as if I've gone quite daft, rolling her eyes, and saying, in a tone that should be reserved for very small children or adults who have suffered brain trauma, "Well, Mom...they are called 'Petrifiers.' So...that's kinda what they do."

Ouch.

And then, there's this.

sushi in bed, bad movie, perfect Valentine

This local restaurant that we love features sushi and bulgogi as its main menu items. One day, Alex's mom meets us for a lovely dinner there. While we're driving over, we're speculating on the origins of the place's name, "Kopan." That exchange went something like this:

Dense Parent 1: "Do you know what the name means?"

Dense Parent 2: "No, I don't...I know that the place in North Little Rock, Kanpai, gets its name from a toasting word--I saw people raising glasses to each other and saying it somewhere."

Dense Parent 1: "Kopan...it could be the name of a town or something."

Dense Parent 2: 'I don't know. We should ask the waitress."

A small voice with a slightly superior air rises up from the back seat.

Bella: "Well, bulgogi is Korean food, and sushi is Japanese..."

Dense Parent 1: (condescending and indulgent) "That's right, Honey."

Bella: "Get it?"

Dense parent 2: "Get what, Sweetie?"

Bella: (heaves sigh) "KOrean...JaPANese...see? KO...PAN. KOPAN."


*crickets*


Me: "I'm sorry...did a SIX YEAR OLD just figure that out before any of the rest of us?"


I'm still a little stung, so tonight while she was at GAs at church, we had sushi without her.