We went out last night to celebrate the birthday of a the coolest girl in the band, and returning to the Chev, I tried to strike up a conversation with MasterP about the recent discovery of water on Mars. (Note: I am overcompensating for days of partial parental neglect due to overwork, so I'm really trying to pull out all the good mommy stops. I feel like Homer Simpson when he started paying attention to the kids... and they asked him to stop.) The conversation:
Me: Did you hear that they got a thimbleful of water from Mars?
Charles: Really?
Me: Yeah, the NASA scientist said that the champagne was flowing in the lab. (See how I can work champagne into so many conversations? It's a gift...)
MasterP: Does that mean that there are little green martian men on Mars? I'm going to go and get one and come back and scare people with it!
LaMag: I'M going to go get a PINK one and she'll be a princess named Strawberry Shortcake!!!
MasterP: MAGGIE!!!! You can't have a pink martian. They're GREEN. The pink ones are from someplace else. Pfeh.
LaMag: MMMOOOMMMMMYYYYYY! Paul is mean and he says I can't have a pink martian and I want a PINK one!
At this time, the headache that I'd been battling all day returned. With great vengeance.
2 comments:
All that champagne talk, I'm going to start calling you "Bubbles."
How do we know that martians aren't pink? Was it just our male centered society of cartoon artists that determined that martian (a la Marvin) should be green?
How's your head? :)
I should have made it clear that I did not actually consume any champagne (I know, I'm all talk.) However, I did consume a coffee stout at Franklin's last night and that was quite fine, thank you.
(You can still call me bubbles if you want.)
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