How Maggie killed the fairy. And other stuff.

The other day, bratlet got mad at me.

I asked the DH if she still pouting. He tells me:

"For the next twenty years or so."

She's 12, at the pre-teen/teen diva drama. I so didn't need to hear that.

My kids are roller coaster junkies. They cannot go a day without talking about this ride or that ride. It's worse in the summer when they can talk their dad into taking them to a local amusement park on his off days.

Yesterday, they asked him:

"Dad, what's the roughest ride you've ever been on?"

I was thinking Drachenfire (sp?), an old steel coaster at Busch Gardens. As straight-faced as could be, he looks at them and says:

"The first four and half years of your baby sister's life."

Monster ripped the nail of his small toe the other day. Somehow. I don't know how. He doesn't know how. I told my guy about it-it was still clinging by a thread and he says:

"Pull it off."

I informed him I was waiting for him to distract the monster.

So the DH comes in to do just that, monster is panicking…

"No, no, no, you can't, it's going to HUR…what?"

And I showed him the nail. I'd pulled it off before he really even started talking.

Baby bratlet was playing with her toys a few weeks ago. She had a LITTLE PEOPLE castle with all these little toys lined up in front of it. And there was a fairy lying on her back.

She tells me: