Miss Moon is four years old. Her friend, Miss L. is five years old. They were planning a dance party afterschool in the kids’ living room. This conversation transpired:
Miss L. : We’re SUPERSTARS!
Miss Moon: No we’re not! How ’bout we’re TEENAGERS!
Miss L. : Yeah! Yeah! We’re TEENAGERS!
They break into giggles, run into the powder room, attach all kinds of clips and barrettes to their hair and then truly dance like no one was watching. But I was watching, and between the conversation, the primping and the dance party, I am now 106 years old, ya’ll. *thud*
   I posted this on the blog’s Instagram page this week, but just in case you’re not following the blog on Instagram (um, why aren’t you?!?), I’m posting it here, just because it was cute:
“Look Mummy, I drew a king and a princess. And THIS is their limbo!”
“Where are they going in their limbo?”
“The buffet. See I gave the King a perfect moustache?”
#OnlyMyPaxton #StoryOfMyLife #InLimboAndAtaBuffet #mysmalls#thekeswickblog
   Last week, Miss M came down with hives for some unknown reason. After a few days, she came downstairs in the morning looking sleepy, tousled and dejected. “Mummy? I still got the bee-hives.”
   And then there are things that just make my head hurt:
“Mummy, you know that game, the one you can play? The spinny around one? Mummy? Mummy? You know it? It’s like with all the numbers on it? You know it? Mummy?”
“What? No, I don’t know it, you’re going to have to tell me what you’re talking about.”
“You know, it’s that spinny around game that has a ball on it? And what if baby played it and won like a billion dollars? Would all the lights go crazy and bells ring? Would the baby get to keep the money? Wouldn’t that be funny? Huh? Wouldn’t it?”
“Sweetie, my head hurts, but I’m pretty sure you’re talking about roulette and I’m pretty sure you’re thinking about casinos and gambling, and babies aren’t allowed to gamble.”
“They’re not?!? “What about kids? Can kids gamble? ‘Cause that’s not fair to the babies that they don’t get to keep the money if they win it.”
“No hon, kids aren’t allowed to gamble either. Only grown ups.”
“How about teenagers? Can teenagers gamble?”
“Only with their futures, kiddo.”
“Huh?”
“No. No gambling for teenagers either. Just for grownups.”
“Well, that’s no fair, because I need money, and now I can’t win it.”
“You and me both, Babe. Â You and me both. Now, where’s the Tylenol at?”
   And this one wasn’t something a child said, but rather a grown woman, a grandmother of six when I complimented her on her hair.
*While flipping the ends of her hair up and down* “Oh, thank you! I never dye my hair you know. I only get my roots done. Eighteen years and I’ve NEVER dyed my hair, I just get my roots done and it matches PERFECTLY! Nope, have never dyed my hair, honestly!”
I’ll just let that one sit and steep a while, shall I?
Now, where is that Tylenol at?