Writing Wrongs

May 18, 2005

Last night, I decided to surprise the kids and take them to dinner at the Burger King with the indoor playground. Weíve had zero park time thanks to nonstop rain (itís like living in Seattle), so I thought it would be fun.

And really, thereís nothing like the aroma of sweaty little kids and stinky sneakers to enhance the dining experience. You just canít buy ambience like that.

On the way there, Kyra mentioned, plaintively, that she needed a pink house. Of course, if Kyra ran the world, everything would be colored shades of pink. But Andrew had other ideas:

Kyra, you donít want a pink house. At night, you wonít be able to find it because it will blend in with the dark, because you know what they say: pink is the new black.

And yeah, I end up wondering where he hears phrases like ďpink is the new black.Ē Kyra just looked at him and said, ďI need pink house.Ē

Later, at home, I plopped Kyra in a bubble bath and Andrew played with bubbles in the sink (because hot, soapy water is the natural conclusion to time at a fast food indoor playground). They took turns using the play razor to scrape off bubbles. Andrew kept insisting he has a moustache while giving himself funny hairstyles. Then he turns to me and says:

Mommy, why donít the French have eyebrows?

You know, they donít prepare you for questions like that in mom-school. Sure, you expect the big ones, THE talk, discussions about drugs or smoking. But why the French lack eyebrows? You got me.

Andrew messed with his hair again, combing it into an Alfalfa-like hairstyle. He squinted at himself in the mirror and pronounced, ďOh, they do. Itís their hairstyles.Ē

So why Alfalfa-like hairstyle = French in Andrewís mind will remain a mystery, Iím sure. But Iím relieved they have eyebrows. And hairstyles. They probably live in those coveted pink houses, too.

Charity Tahmaseb wrote at 11:36 a.m.