I'm hesitant to post this, but since she's not old enough to read my blog, I'm gonna...
Mom (that's me, in the pick up line after school): How was your day honey?
Miss Priss: Fine. Guess what? Alicia's going to sing a song for the talent contest.
Mom [realizing MP is for some reason obsessed with this contest]: Really? Which one?
MP: I don't remember the name of it, but it was by the Hickey Dicks.
Mom [laughing only on the inside]: Honey, that doesn't sound right. Try again.
MP: Something like that. Anyway...
Mom [rudely interrupting during crucial part of story]: Wait. We gotta fix this one. Was it Dixie Chicks?
MP: Yeah, whatever. So...
Mom [refusing to let it go]: Honey, I just want to make sure that you are pronouncing it correctly in the future. This is important.
MP: Fine, yeah, it was the Dixie Chicks, okay?
Mom: Okay! Much better!
Jeez, I never thought I'd be so thrilled to hear my daughter articulate those two words.
Everything is indeed relative.
I was present to hear little Sara, all of six years-old, stand up in front of the PTA meeting and announce that she wanted to be "an exotic dancer" when she grew up.
She meant BALLET DANCER, but that ain't what she said. I may be evil, but I couldn't help but laugh when I saw the expression on her mother's face.
Posted by: Acidman at January 24, 2005 06:11 PMI thought they were the Dicked Chicks. Better straighten her out.
Posted by: Velociman at January 24, 2005 06:28 PMChrist woman. You owe me a new monitor. Maybe a new keyboard too. Priceless. Just priceless!
Posted by: Moogie at January 24, 2005 07:58 PM
I like e-mail.
If I LIKE what you have
to say, I'll even respond.
keymonroe at gmail dot com
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