Overheard

ME (at bedtime): Boys, turn off your light. Time to go to sleep.
ANDREW: But how am I supposed to get back to my bed if the light is turned off?
ME: I don't know. Try echolocation.

I should have told him to try this:

"I'm so fast that last night I turned off the light switch in my hotel room and was in bed before the room was dark."

Overheard

SOPHIE: Who's your favorite princess?
ME: Sophie.
SOPHiE: I'm not a princess. I'm not even in any princess movies.
ME: You don't have to be in a princess movie to be a princess.
SOPHIE: And I'm not even wearing a dress.
GINGER: Sometime princesses have to wear pants.
SOPHIE: Mom when you do that you're such a weirdo.

No.

Ethan has been singing out loud for eight and a half years. Most of the time he doesn't even know he's doing it.

This morning at 7AM he was downstairs belting out Beatles songs a capella, at volume 11. Ginger and I were trying to sleep in until at least 7:15--I mean it is Saturday, after all. So we called him up to our room. I asked him to please not sing any more Beatles songs until everyone was out of bed.

So he said "OK," went back downstairs, and started singing C+C Music Factory instead.

Everybody dance now.

Guilty.

Overheard

Sophie said our family prayer tonight:

"...Thank you for this day and bless it so we will have a goodnight and so daddy will wake up in the morning and make us crepes..."

Except for the standard beginning and end, that was the entire prayer.

Oh, and I just made crepes yesterday.

Overheard

Sophie just came into my office, plopped herself on the big chair, and started the following conversation.

SOPHIE: Dad, the thing is, I'm worried Christmas is not going to start.
ME: Why are you worried about that?
SOPHIE: Because Christmas is not going to start.
ME: Why not?
SOPHIE: Because Santa died.
ME: What??
SOPHIE: Santas can die you know.
ME: How do you know Santa died?
SOPHIE: Because I dinnit see him.
ME: At Christmas time?
SOPHIE: Uh huh.

And then she changed the subject.

Theory of relativity

A couple of days ago I spoke to a friend from Haiti.  He told me that when he was a college student in that country over 20 years ago, he worked with a group of professors and students on an emergency plan for the government.  They were tasked with coming up with the worst possible natural disaster or crisis they could imagine, and a concrete plan for how the country should deal with the crisis. 

So they met and tied to determine the worst kind of event.  A hurricane?  No, those happen all the time--everyone knows what to do in a hurricane.  A tsunami? Maybe--that would be bad.  Instead, they came up with something that in their minds would be even worse: A snowstorm. 

Yep, they put together an emergency plan so the government would know what to do if Haiti ever received 15 inches of snow in a 24-hour period.  Ironically, he said the idea of an earthquake never even made it on their list, as it was considered such a remote possibility.  "Even more remote than a snowstorm in Haiti?" I asked.  He said, "Well, we had to come up with something."  It was the worst thing they could possibly imagine.  I don't know if that's funny or sad; maybe it's a little of both.  He thinks it's funny, now that he's lived through so many Indiana winters.

Sometimes when it's quiet in the afternoon...

...we'll go upstairs and find that Sophie has snuck into bed for a
nap. Other days, she won't take a nap to save her life.