Friday, November 7, 2008

Love is in the hair

I am so not ready for my kids to grow up. I love that G-12 still wants me to believe that he thinks girls are gross. I see him checking them out when I take him back and forth to school, but he would have me believe that they have cooties.

And Cece got the opportunity to say no to a "Will you be my girlfriend?" question. Thank goodness that we had talked about the player in her class who has asked all her friends, and kept them as a girlfriend for, oh, about a week.

I told her that when he asks (not if), that she should probably say no.

She said that he asked this week and she said, "No thanks, I don't like leftovers." Flipped her head, turned and walked away.
High ten, Cece. Never been so proud!

She said boys are disguisting. If she ever thinks they are cute she just remembers how they look after recess, all sweaty and stinky, and sticking their hands all over their sweaty gross faces and wiping the sweat into their hair to make it spike up. [Yes, disqusting; are you throwing up? Yeah, me too. Keep in up boys:)]

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on marriage

'Will you, um, marry me?' I haven't seen you in weeks! You don't look happy or excited about the prospect of our marriage! You're asking me to give up my - my freedom, my joie de vivre for an institution that fails as often as it succeeds? And why should I marry you anyway? I mean, why do you wanna marry me? Besides some bourgeois desire to fulfill an ideal that society embeds in us from an early age to promote a consumer capitalist agenda?