Sunday, September 4, 2016

Loopholes

Quinn: "Mom, you are the queen of loopholes."
Mom: "No I'm not!"
Quinn: "YES!  I come to you and ask if you can get electronics out of the safe, and you tell me 'go clean your room'.  I go clean my room, and come back and you say 'I never said I would get it out, I just told you to clean your room!'"
Mom: "True.  I cannot be held responsible for your assumptions."
Quinn: "That's a loophole."
Mom: "No.  That's precise wording."



Quintessential Quinn

This is how Quinn spent much of his summer - notebook on lap, tapping out a melody on the keyboard he bought with his birthday money.  Both boys are big into composing these days.  Obsessed really, which is nice because it gives Mom a "carrot" to hold over their heads to get chores done.  No music making until the dishwasher is emptied.  Which is a warped way of looking at things, but from a Mother's perspective... brutally honest. 

They're good, these boys.  They both have good ears, and creative ideas.  Quinn has switched from wanting to be a geologist to a music composer when he grows up.  Colby still wants to be a software engineer, but design, illustrate, and produce music for his own video games.  Soup to nuts, so to speak.  We will see.  We will see.


Saturday, September 3, 2016

She's Going To Blow

Conversation in the car on the way home tonight.  Reagan was pouting because she wanted to stay at grandma's house and play with a friend instead of going home.  It was 8:30 pm... bedtime. 

Reagan: "PLEEEEEEASEEEEEE Mom!  I really want to play with her!"
Mom: "Reagan, this conversation is over.  I gave you my answer.  We're going home."
Reagan: "But PLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEAAAAASEEE? ((whine whine whine))"
Quinn, putting his hand on  my shoulder from the back seat.  "It's okay, Mom.  Calm down.  Don't blow."
Mom: "I am calm!  I didn't blow up.  I didn't say anything!"
Quinn: "But you were about to.  I can totally tell when you're about to blow.  Reagan, you need to be quiet, because Mom is on the verge of blowing."
Mom: "How do you know that?"
Colby: "Because you're making your 'annoyed' face." 
Without even looking in a mirror, I can tell you... I most assuredly was making an annoyed face. 
Quinn: "I can totally read you, Mom, just like I can read Colby.  Like, for example, if I say 'Mom' too much, you blow.  Like the 10th time I say it... watch out.  You yell."
Colby: "And the 2nd time you ask us to do something.  You freak out."
Mom: "It's more like the 12th time I ask you to do something, but you ignore the first 11 times.  Then I blow."
Quinn:  "That's because Reagan keeps the t.v. up too loud."   (editor's note:  [[eye roll]])
Mom: "Well, Quinn, I would like you to teach Reagan that very valuable skill.  Teach her to read my cues and not push me to the point of blowing."
Colby: "Sometimes I do things just to see you lose it."   Thanks, Colby.

If they know what annoys me so well, why do they keep doing it???