Kid Quotes (10/13)

B: We have to just get Jack a new computer so he can have Minecraft.
Me: Well, it’s not that easy. Computers cost money.
Blake, after a little more discussion about computers: Well, it’s a good thing we have unlimited money from Daddy’s job.
Ah, to be six again….
(Note to potential thieves: Daddy’s job doesn’t produce anything close to unlimited money.)

B: Hey, Mama. I’m sure Bigfoot likes rainbows. And if he sees a unicorn, he’d just kill it like a big jerk.

Blake, taking a shower: Gotta get my armpit…now my kneepit…

Blake, talking about the story he wrote: So he upgraded Bambi, apparently.
J: Wouldn’t you know? You wrote the story.

After some discussion of Blake’s story, I realized that he had never seen the movie. Jack said he didn’t remember seeing the whole thing. So we popped some popcorn and watched Bambi.
Jacky, after Owl’s “twitterpated” speech: What was he talking about? Sounds like he’s talking being torn apart by a pack of wolves.

Blake’s decided to work out using the Wii Fit Plus. He spent all day yesterday telling me how strong he is now (after one day). Every time he said, “I pumped up my arms,” I had SNL flashbacks.
This morning, he took a break to eat some oatmeal. “I had to get some energy so I could finish getting energized.”

B: I need you to turn the light on for me so I can see the box. Like an animatronic arm.
Me: What does animatronics have to do with it?
B: I don’t know.

We went to a National Weather Service open house over the weekend. I may as well have taken Blake to a horror movie. He spent thirty minutes watching the flood plain demonstration and listening to the guy talk. He seemed fine then. By Tuesday, he was freaking out, asking if we’re going to flood (we live at the top of a pretty big hill, so no), and “Will Daddy be able to get to work if it floods?”
He went to sleep talking about floods and woke up talking about floods. We took a walk around the neighborhood so I could show him all the hills and valleys. It didn’t help.
So I used the map that a friend shared on Facebook, and convinced him that we are in no danger of flooding. We’re in a 500-year flood zone. “But what about the people who will be here in 500 years?”
“Your kids and even your kids’ kids will be gone in 500 years.”
“So if someone buys this house, in 500 years, they have to worry about floods?”
“This house won’t be here in 500 years. Houses don’t last that long.”
“So this house is going to fall down?”
When am I going to learn to keep my mouth shut?
I’m just glad he’s so literal and thought this meant that it will be 500 years before it floods here. It hasn’t yet occurred to him that it might have been 499 years since the last time it flooded. I do know to keep that to myself.

Me: I’m making tea.
B: Tea, you say?
How old are you, dude?

Blake, “Being an artist is hard.”

B got a math question, complete with a numbered calendar page, “How many days are in June?”
B: Do I really have to count all those days?
Me: You could. Or you could just use the numbers that are already there.

Earlier the next day:
B: “So we’re safe from floods, but not safe from tornadoes?”
Dang it. Here we go again.
Me: “No, sorry, we’re not safe from tornadoes.”
In the car on the way home from dropping Jack off at a class that afternoon. The cloud charts they picked up Saturday were still in the car.
B, reading: “Wall Cloud. Lowering of the rain free base of a thunderstorm, often prior to a tornado formation.”
After reading that two or three more times: “So if we see a wall cloud, we have to call them straightaway.”
He reads through the whole chart of 30+ types of clouds. Then: “Altostratus or Nimbostratus. Dense enough to hide the sun or moon. But then how will we know what time it is? We’ll have to look at clock.”
Apparently his outdoor skills are much better than I knew.
Back to the chart: “A wave cloud is formed by strong horizontal winds over uneven terrain. So if a wall cloud and a wave cloud got together, the wind could be absorbed into a tornado?”
“I suppose.”
Then there he said something about the tornadoes going to Hawaii. “But then they’d mess all the islands. And all those people would die, and that would be bad.”

Then after we picked Jack up from class. We had carried the charts into the house.
B: When we get home, I need to show you what a wall cloud looks like.
J: I don’t care what a wall cloud looks like.
B: But you need to know so you can be safe!
J: So I know when to go to the shelter?
B: Yes! I’ll show you when we get home.
J: I still don’t care.
And proceeds to start talking about some other disaster that I can’t remember but Blake didn’t need to hear about.
Me: Stop! Don’t give him something else to worry about.

Blake, as he crawls onto my bed: I don’t ever want to go to the doctor.
Me: Okay. I’ll do my best.
Then I look over. He’s cuddled up to my pillow CRYING.
Me: What’s wrong?
B: What’s the difference between a surgeon and a doctor?
Me: A surgeon operates on people. They cut you open to fix stuff inside.
B: Am I ever going to have have surgery?
Me: I don’t have any way of knowing that, but the chances are pretty slim. Where did this come from?
B, still crying: I don’t want to have surgery. How do they being you back alive?
Me: Having surgery doesn’t mean you die. Where did this come from?
B: How do they fix stuff inside you without making you dead?
Me: They have special equipment. That’s why they have to do it at the hospital. We can’t do surgery here in our house.
B, still crying: At the 4-H thing, one of them wants to be a surgeon.
I assumed this meant that one of the kids at the 4-H Open House was talking about wanting to become a surgeon.
Me: Somebody said they want to be a surgeon?
B: Yes…Jacob…{sob}
Me: Jacob wants to be a surgeon?
B: No. One of the girls.
I named the girls and he picked one.
B: {sob} I don’t want to get surgery.
Me: You don’t have to. Surgeons don’t operate on their friends. They operate on sick people.
This conversation took place Saturday night. The 4-H Open House was on Wednesday. (Yes, the same Wednesday as the wall cloud/tornado discussion.)

Jack, “I don’t like watching Star Trek when I have a fever blister.”
I don’t ask too many questions. It’s how I stay sane.

I was out of the house all day Sunday, but apparently Blake was talking to his dad about it. This is what he woke up talking about this morning (Monday).
B: Daddy said adults have surgery way more than kids. So I have like a five percent chance of having surgery and you have like a twenty percent chance.
Me: I guess. Probably.
B: Daddy has like a thirty-five percent chance because he’s way older.
A minute later: And Jack has a nine percent chance. I’m the only one who has a tiny bit of a chance. As long as I stay six.
I wasn’t going to bring it up again, but since he had, and he seemed pretty calm, I asked him what had made him think that people died before surgery. He said he didn’t know.

This was immediately after the surgery discussion. You have to be quick to keep up around here.
B: What did you get that trophy for?
Me: Showing rabbits with 4-H when I was in high school.
B: Did you have rabbits?
Me: No. There was a farmer who let some of us use his rabbits in exchange for helping to take care of them. We had to help clean out the barn and stuff.
B: What do you mean ” clean out the barn”?
Me: Well, when animals are in a closed space, you have to keep their poop cleaned up so they don’t get sick. Like for horses, you go in, clean out the poop and old hay and put down fresh hay. For the rabbits, we took out the poop and put down fresh–
B: Carrots?

Blake was putting away his laundry and there were about ten pair of shorts on hangers.
Me: Can you get all those or do you need to make two trips? (I’d need to hang around if he had to come back. He can’t reach the rack in the laundry room.)
B: No, I can do it. I do this many all the time. I’m a professional. (Hangs them up and comes back.) I didn’t even break a sweat.