Thursday, September 28, 2006

Why our children are doomed as doomed can be.

So my husband and I are fixing dinner. And our son is in the kitchen, doing his science homework at the kitchen table. He's working on quantitative and qualitative properties.

Young Master Buxom: What's a qualitative property? I need to describe the qualitative properties of my pencil.

Mr. Buxom:
A qualitative property describes something without using numbers. So how would you describe your pencil?

Young Master Buxom:
...

Mrs. Buxom
[helpfully] Well, it's hard.

Mrs. Buxom:
[Catching Mr. Buxom's eye and smiling brightly] And it's longer than it is around. [She starts to walk towards Mr. Buxom, shaking with silent laughter.]

Mr. Buxom:
And it has a rubbery tip.

[Mr. Buxom and Mrs. Buxom start laughing helplessly. In fact, Mrs. Buxom laughs so hard she starts to wheeze.]

Will Young Master Buxom go on to win the Nobel Prize? Stay tuned.

6 comments:

  1. Oh, you and Mr. B. are hot tonight! Your banter made me hack and bark with laughter.

    My hubby & I were also in rare form when our daughter told us this evening that her transgendered teacher is engaged.

    More on that tomorrow.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Haha...you know, sometimes I think motherhood will be totally worth all the sacrifice for the entertainment value alone!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Oh gosh I love it! This is how we stay sane in the whole parenthood thing. When you've got those little moments of insanity where the kids look at you like you're off your rocker, it just makes it all worth while. :)

    Happy Friday!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Oh gosh I love it! This is how we stay sane in the whole parenthood thing. When you've got those little moments of insanity where the kids look at you like you're off your rocker, it just makes it all worth while. :)

    Happy Friday!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Aren't you glad we didn't give Young Master Buxom a fountain pen last Christmas?

    -J.

    ReplyDelete

Gentle Readers:

For the time being, I've turned off comment moderation. Please don't spam; it's not nice.

xxx, Poppy.