~Heated Conversations~

After picking up a bag of Lay's new potato chips...

Eamon:  "Can't we get something else?  I don't like those!"

Me:  "You don't know if you don't like them b/c you've never tried them.  Plus, if you don't like them, more for me, Dad, & Rowan."

later...

Eamon:  <hesitantly> "Ok, I'll try one...Hmm, not ba... AAAUUGH!  HOT! HOT!  NEED WATER!  WATERRRRRRR!"  <runs around the kitchen like he's on fire>

Me:  "Milk would be better."

Eamon:  <finally making it to the fridge and reaching for the milk, stops suddenly>  "Oh.  Actually, I don't need that anymore.  Hmm, once your mouth stops being on fire, they're actually pretty good."

Eamon's ringing endorsement: 

Once your mouth stops being on fire, they're actually pretty good. ;) 

UPDATE:  We all ended up enjoying these chips.  Some of us a little too much like when Mark decided to share them with his eyeballs.  Yes, you read that right.  Mark was so overwhelmed with the wonderful wasabi ginger flavor that he thought it would be a good idea to stick his fingers immediately from his mouth into his eyeballs, in the process of putting in his contacts.  Much shouting and cursing ensued.  And then the exact thing happened the next day too!  Several days later, the following conversation took place.

Mark:  "Hey, are there any of those chips left?  They're pretty good."

Me:  <feeling slightly guilty at having eaten the last few crumbs minutes before> "Umm, nooo..."

Mark:  "I thought I just saw the bag in the kitchen?"

Me:  "Well, there are none left now."

Mark:  <irritated> "I only got to have two chips."

Me:  "And you decided to shove them both in your eyes so you're not allowed to have those chips."

And who wins the Ultimate-Blame-Deflection Game (for this round anyway)?  ME!  ;) 

~Buggy Conversations~

After discovering a furry little visitor on our deck this morning...

Eamon:  "Mommy, can you come here a second?  Look at this!"

Me:  "Ooh, cool catepillar!  Uh-oh, looks like Ziggy wants to see what you found..."

Eamon:  <rushing to intercept our curious canine>  "No, Ziggy, NO!  Back!  BACK!  You can't come this way or you'll squish it.  STOP, IT'S A LIVING CREATURE!"

I was touched that my little man would be so adamant about saving this little guy from certain doggy doom so I picked up a stick to see if I could relocate him...

Eamon:  "Ooh, a stick!  Can I poke him with it after you?!"

Hmm, maybe he's not so concerned about this living creature after all...

Me:  <indignantly>  "I was not going to poke him with it!  I was going to use the stick to move him off the deck!"

Eamon:  "Oh.  Yeah, me too.  Can I move him with the stick after you?"

Me:  *sigh*  "Fine, you do it but be gentle with him!"

Eamon:  "I will!"

~Elephantine Conversations~

While discussing the distant galaxy that is on course to collide with ours - in 3 billion years...

Eamon:  <pensively>  "We need a giant force field...  When I grow up, I'm going to build one!  And I'm going to test it with an elephant."

Me:  "You're going to throw an elephant at your force field to see if it works?"

Eamon:  "No!  I mean, how would I even pick it up?"

Rowan:  "You're planning to build a giant force field but how to pick up and launch an elephant is what you're worried about!?"

Eamon:  <thoughtfully>  "Well, I could use cranes..."

Me:  "The real issue here is that you're willing to kill an elephant to test out your force field."

Eamon:  "What?!  No, he'll just bounce off the force field and be fine."

Me:  "An elephant flying through the air is not going to be in good shape when it hits the ground."

Eamon:  "Not if there are pillows and mattresses under him when he lands."

Whew!  Now I can rest easy knowing that PETA will not come after my little inventor! ;) 

T'eed Off Conversations

While discussing the T-shirt Eamon made at camp...

Mom:  "Did you ask Eamon about the shirt that he made?"

Me:  "A little but he didn't explain much.  What are those things he painted?"

Rowan:  "He just says they're 'science.'"

Me:  "Huh.... <to Eamon>  Hey, buddy, that is a cool shirt that you made!  What's on it?"

Eamon:  "Science."

Me:  "Well, yeah, I can see that it's science-y but what are those things?  Circuits or machinery or...?"

Eamon:  <deadpan>  "Sci-ence."

My little smarty pants! :P 

Packing Wars: Part fjórir

Some last minute random travel thoughts...

For several days, I have been tearing the house apart trying to find a headlamp to use for the camping excursion during the last leg of the trip.  Sitting around a campfire is nice but anyone who's ever camped knows how imperative it is to have some kind of mobile light source for that most important of camping activities - making it from the tent to the bathroom and then back to the correct tent!  A flashlight would do but a hands-free light is best because for some reason, flashlights seem to jump from my hands and end up in the nearest water source so you can imagine how a sleepy middle of the night campground bathroom trip would end!  Finally, I had my Eureka moment yesterday when I discovered one of the missing camping headlamps in the junk basket on the counter.  (In case you're wondering, we have a junk basket, as well as its older sister, the junk drawer, and a little cousin, the junk tray. What can I say? We're thorough in our junk storage.)  As I proudly held the headlamp up, basking in the satisfaction of discovery, it dawned on me that I would be camping in Iceland.  In the summer. When Iceland does not get dark at night.  Screw it.  I spent so much time looking for the darned thing, it's going in the suitcase anyway!   

And then there's the rain coat/poncho issue.  I kept asking Mark if he's packed one, if he even still owns one and let's just say rain ponchos haven't been high on his list of priorities.  With one packing day left, I asked again and this conversation happened:

Mark:  "No, I don't have one but I checked the weather channel and it's not going to rain."  

Me:  <blinking in confusion> "We'll be in Scotland and England for TWO WEEKS and the weather channel has told you that it won't rain at all in Scotland and England for TWO WHOLE WEEKS?!" 

Mark:  <unconcerned> "Well, it's not going to rain on race day so that's the important thing and I think there was a 30 percent chance of rain some other day."  

Me:  "It's Scotland and England.  I've been told that the only constant there IS rain and if we take nothing else, we should have an umbrella and/or poncho for when it DOES rain because it always rains because it's Scotland and England!"  

I'm not sure that conversation had the desired effect because who's going out to buy another poncho?  No, not Mark, me. :P  

So the packing is almost at an end.  I think.  Although, how the heck is this...

supposed to fit into this?  *deepbreath*  I can do this!  I think.

~Heated Conversations~

After receiving an amazing hooded towel in the mail for his birthday from the Rosenberry's...

Eamon:  "This is awesome!"

Me:  "I know!  And I'm pretty sure Ms. Chevon sewed that all herself, which makes it even more special."

Eamon:  <excitedly wrapping it around himself>  "And it's so warm!"

Me:  "Um, yeah, but it is June so let's stick to using it at bath and pool times."

Eamon:  <wrapping it even tighter around himself>  "Uh-huh..."

Me:  "Seriously!  I'd rather you not give yourself heat stroke right now."

Later that same day...

Eamon:  "I'm a Sith Lord!"

The listening is not strong with this one. :P

~Injured Conversations~

After playing outside while I did yardwork...

Eamon:  "Mom, can I have a band-aid?"

Me:  <absently>  "Um, I guess... Wait!  Don't you have one on already?"

Eamon:  "But it's coming off."

Me:  "It looks fine to me."

Eamon:  "I can prove it's bleeding."

Me:  "Why would you need to prove that it's bleeding."

Eamon:  <pulls the band-aid half-way off>  "See? Blood!"

Me:  <squinting> "Where?!  I see a tiny red mark like maybe you scraped it a little bit."

Eamon:  <puts his knee in my face and triumphantly points to tiny brownish smudge on the band-aid itself>  "See?!  So can I have a band-aid?"

Me:  "No!  You may have squeezed one drop of blood out of that tiny scrape but it's obviously NOT bleeding now so that would be a waste of a band-aid."

Eamon:  *sigh*

Comes upstairs a little bit later with a smile on his face and I see this...

Eamon's homemade band-aid made from the finest, 

most antibacterial toilet paper and scotch tape that money can buy!

Eamon:  "Mom, can I have the crutches?"

Me:  "Aaaaarrgh!"