
After the Dog

Another day, another severed Barbie hand found in my bed.
Dizzle: “Mom, guess what! I did that gymnastics move without breaking my neck.”
Me: Dizzle, do you think you’re going to want to be a mom someday?
Dizzle: Nah, I think I’m just gonna have a boyfriend.
Me: If you can’t be nice to your brother when your friend is over, poor Gabby is going to have to go home.
Dizzle: I didn’t even do anything. And Gabby is not poor!
In order of importance:
1. World peace
2. A cure for cancer
3. My 6 year-old daughter to stop singing Slow Hands.
Dizzle: I want to wear the same shirt today.
Me: You wore that shirt yesterday and it has a big taco spot right on your chest.
Dizzle: I know, I love how I can smell like tacos all day.
My daughter summed up:
Husband is the kids’ baseball coach and he asks the team “Ok kids, what’s the #1 rule on our team?”
Dizzle: “BE AGGRESSIVE!”
Husband: “I appreciate your intensity but it’s have fun.”
Husband: “What’s our #2 rule?”
Dizzle: “BE AGGRESSIVE!”
Husband: “Ok, I really like it but it’s try your best.”
Dizzle is appalled that she hasn’t made “one, single money” yet in her new business venture. I’m not sure why she’s so surprised since it’s a dog washing business and she has yet to wash one, single dog.
Dizzle: When is Luna’s birthday?
Me: You know what? It’s actually Christmas.
Dizzle: Whoa, that’s crazy! So she’s just like Jesus… except I’m pretty sure Jesus didn’t poop on the floor.
(Luna is the puppy, not some weird aunt who poops in floors).