J (8 years-old) came into the kitchen this morning stomping one foot and quacking like a duck. “Guess what I am,” he asked. “And here’s a hint – it doesn’t really exist.”
I scrutinized him carefully. “I’m not sure. A venomous duck?” (that’s my new favorite animal – I swear they’re everywhere!)
“No,” he replied, “I’m a bull-mouse. See, I’m kicking my foot like a bull.”
“A bull-mouse that quacks like a duck?”
“Yeah,” he said, obviously meaning duh, “I told you it wasn’t real.”
That’s when my 6 year-old barreled in from the living room pointing a sharp finger at her brother. “I knew you were lying!!”
“What?” I asked.
Still glaring at her brother she said, “J said if I blink my eyes when the big hand was on the seven, that my eyes would never open again. And they did!!”
That’s when I decided arriving a little early for school wouldn’t hurt anyone.