Skip to main content

Goat Hair

I had an interesting conversation with my seven year old last night after dinner. Well, it was during my dinner. She'd rejected eating any of the four different stuffed brats that hubby had cooked on the barbecue in favor of one slice of juicy watermelon. She obviously finished her meal much earlier than I did.

Ashley: "You said you'd take me to the Dollar Store"
Me: (Reaching over to select a tomato and basil chicken brat) "Did not"
Ashley: "Did too!"
Me: (popping a bit into my mouth) "I never said I was going to take you today"
Ashley: "You said you were going to Goat Hair!!"

This was followed by a lot of facial movements and several stomped feet for punctuation.

Me: "Goat hair?"
Ashley: "GO THERE"
Me: "Goat hair? I don't get it. Why would you want goat hair?"
Ashley: "I didn't say GOAT HAIR!" (more stomping)
Me: "Well, I suppose goat hair might be nice, except if you use it as
underwear, I think it might itch a bit"
Ashley: (folding arms across little chest in anger) "I don't want any GOAT HAIR!"
Me: "That's a relief, although I think you'd look spectacular in a goat hair coat"
Ashley: (trying extremely hard not to laugh) "That's not funny!"
Me: "Of course it's not funny. Just think how the goat would feel if you took
all of it's hair and made it into a coat. Poor thing would freeze to death, although I do think goat hair comes in a lot of different colors"
Ashley: "Stop it!!" (now pounding on dinner table, rattling the plates)
Me: "and just think of how you'd smell. What would your friends at school say?"
Ashley: (alternately laughing and looking mad) I don't WANT any goat hair! I want to GO THERE!"
Me. "Go where?"
Ashley: "WHY CAN'T YOU EVER BE SERIOUS FOR ONCE???"

Ah, and therein lies the real question. I'm not sure I have an answer for that one.

Comments

  1. Hi Pamela,

    I have a possible answer for your question:

    Because life is too short!

    It sounds like the conversations we had when my kids were growing up! Enjoy, they grow up so fast!

    bhpbk - wht kds use to tk thr bks to schl.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I totally agree! Plus, I have trouble remaining serious for long. It's a gift.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I totally agree! Plus, I have trouble remaining serious for long. It's a gift.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Hi Pammy, you'd better be serious about me, baby.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Isn't it fun to get them all riled up like that?!
    Thanks for visiting, I'm planing to blogroll you and come back again.

    ReplyDelete
  6. My poor children - particularly the 10-year-old daughter - ask me and their dad that question all the time ("Can't you ever be serious?"). Or we're frequently told, "You guys are such dorks!"

    Ha... I love it.

    ReplyDelete
  7. I'd like to have an argument.

    Sorry, bein' hit on the 'ead lessons in here.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Average Mom, thanks for visiting and I hope you return often. It's nice to know I'm not the only one that enjoys getting the wee ones riled up a bit.

    Naddin J, we could quite possibly be twins. I can't count the times my children have berated me for not being serious.

    Frontier Editor, I'll argue with you. What might be more fun is to arm wrestle! C'mere!

    Tom, Tom, Tom....how could you possibly think I wasn't serious about you?

    ReplyDelete
  9. As long as you don't have one of those "Death Before Dishonor" tattos on your forearm.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Actually, it's on my thigh.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Well, that's something you don't hear everyday

    ReplyDelete
  12. You're just not hanging out with the right people!

    ReplyDelete
  13. So many ways to answer that one . . . and so many ways to get myself in trouble . . ..

    at least you have two legs?

    Skipping merrily to hell . . . . .

    ReplyDelete
  14. You need to give me your phone number so I can give it to Heather. She desperately wishes to meet up with you at some point, in a dark alley.

    ReplyDelete
  15. I'm stumped.

    By the way, the answer to your daughter's question: I can't be, because Sirius is an immense, glowing, extraordinarily hot ball of gas and debris, much like Roseanne Barr during menopause.

    ReplyDelete
  16. I nearly choked when I read that! You should post a warning first!!

    ReplyDelete
  17. You're right.

    Don't read the post two spaces before this one.

    ReplyDelete
  18. I wouldn't dream of it!

    ReplyDelete
  19. Classic. I worked for almost 25 years with elementary school children and came to see myself as a sort of stand up comic for young juveniles!

    One of the surest get-a-laugh formulas is exactly what you did: Pretend to mishear/misunderstand. Maybe at first you really do, but then you run with it!

    ReplyDelete
  20. I really did misunderstand her at first, but then ran with it as usual.

    My children are my worst critics.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Go ahead....tell me the truth :)

Popular posts from this blog

A Poem to an Abusive Man

I've been doing a bit of research on abuse, domestic violence and how it usually ends. It's not pretty and it's painful and I hurt every time I read another woman's tale of horror.

Did you know that emotional abuse is as detrimental as physical abuse? And that most emotional abusers continue on to become physical abusers? I didn't. I do now. I found a site where formerly abused women, on the path to recovery from their abusers, have written poems. This one below is one that haunted me.

Thank You

You wooed me with poetry
I bit on the hook
Had I only first read
The name of the book

I would have avoided
The very first page
For pages kept turning
Revealing the rage

The ups were a great high
The ride was a bash
But I rode with my eyes closed
To avoid seeing the crash
I knew it would come soon
But I never knew when
The rage and the leaving
And the path to the end

You had to control things
Determined you would
Emotionally destroying me
Every way that you could

I'll Love You Forever, I'll Like You For Always...

I rely on the kindness of strangers...

Or not so much strangers as readers of my miserable blog.

I received a beautiful card in the mail from my long-tine reader (perhaps my ONLY reader) that lifted my heart. Thank you, G. Parkes. It was kind of you to think of me. Seriously---you are so sweet. Thank you.

Perhaps we can meet in person one day. I'll be in Utah after Conference. We'll see how it goes.

I've been caring for my autistic grandson since July. It seems longer sometimes---and that's not a complaint. I adore this little man. He holds my heart. He fills my arms and my heart in the way that my own small babies used to do. When mine reached the age where they didn't want to be in my arms any longer, I felt their absence. Their absence from my arms was heavier than actually having them in my arms. It was an ache that is difficult to describe, a phantom pain where something once was but now is no longer.

Before my husband and I went to the cabin th…

I'm Sick. And the election isn't helping.

I spoke too soon about feeling better. My grandson was delightful enough to share his virus with me, so I've spent the past five days losing everything from both ends. It hasn't been pretty.

As a weight loss program though...

At least one end of me has stopped spewing. Now I wait for the other end to stop pretending to be filled with hot lava and erupting without much notice. Sorry, this is what is called over-sharing. Apparently I'm very good at it. You're welcome.

Last night I walked around the block with hubby and our adorable puppy. It was the first time I've been out of the house in five days. It was lovely, even though I was very shaky. Today I actually tried to accomplish something. I sat at my jewelry table, moved my seaglass around. Picked up pieces and played them through my hands. Such beautfy that came from something considered useless garbage and tossed away. I love my sea glass. It gives me the happies.

I also had a severe case of J…