Eight Days a Week Quotes

“Huh? What did I promise?”
“Fowevew,” he said with a nod, like it was final.
“Exactly.”
We stared at each other, and it reminded me of my first day, when he stared me down like a mute gunslinger.”
― Amber L. Johnson, Eight Days a Week

“Brady was staring at me from across the table. Unmoving. Unblinking. Not speaking. It was like an old Western. The house was too quiet as I stared back at him. He was winning this contest. And I’d had no idea we were even in one to begin with. Break, kid. Break”
― Amber L. Johnson, Eight Days a Week

“Okay. No joke, there is a talking, dancing, bright red, studded dildo on the screen. There are other ones that look like him, and I swear to God one is wearing a condom on his head. That’s a kids’ show?”
― Amber L. Johnson, Eight Days a Week

“I loaded Brady into the Celibacy Wagon”
― Amber L. Johnson, Eight Days a Week

“Wednesday: Do none of these cartoon kids have parents? Max and Ruby—do they live alone? And why won’t she EVER listen to what Max says? Damn goody-goody know-it-all. Reminds me of Cece.”
― Amber L. Johnson, Eight Days a Week

“Brady! You can’t watch that!”
He looked up at me, his eyebrows furrowed, from his place on the floor. The remote was far away from him, next to the screen, so he couldn’t have changed the channel. I snatched it up and hit the information button. “What the hell is a YoGabbaGabba?” I looked back over at Brady and frowned. “Uh, never mind. Go ahead.”
Walking with purpose back into the kitchen, I whispered into the receiver. “Okay. No joke, there is a talking, dancing, bright red, studded dildo on the screen. There are other ones that look like him, and I swear to God one is wearing a condom on his head. That’s a kids’ show?” I looked back into the living room. “Whatever happened to good old-fashioned cartoons? Don’t they have good shit like Animaniacs anymore?”
― Amber L. Johnson, Eight Days a Week

“Hey, buddy. Are you ready to swim with Joshua? And eat hot dogs?”
Brady nodded. “Hot dogs! Thew’s a pawty in my tummy!” He giggled and grinned at me.
I rolled my eyes and set him down on the floor. “You’re going to make me sing it back?” 
He nodded, bouncing.
I rubbed my hand over my stomach. “So yummy, so yummy.” 
He fell back onto his bottom and rolled on the floor in a fit of laughter. 
“No more YoGabbaGabba, li’l man. It makes Dee’s brain crazy.”
― Amber L. Johnson, Eight Days a Week

“Cuidar de estos niños me ha enseñado mucho más que cualquier clase universitaria o año en el extranjero.
Encontrar algo que funcione requiere perseverancia. Y confianza.
Las Pistas de Blue están bien, pero Steve es mejor que Joe. Joe luce como un zombi, y ningún niño debería tener que ver esa mierda.
Los niños aprenden mucho más haciendo las cosas. E imitan todo. Lo que te sirve para volverte mejor como persona, a sabiendas de que siempre estás siendo observado. Incluso mientras haces pis.
Los programas de los niños están hechos para fastidiarte, así que lleva a los pequeños a un parque y haz algo de ejercicio. Estoy convencido de que Sprout tiene la culpa.
Moldear una mente joven puede hacerte sentir importante.
Los niños pueden enseñarte cómo amar totalmente y sin ataduras. Te abrirán los ojos a cosas que das por sentadas. Te amarán por ser tú. Y por sólo respuesta. en respuesta”
― Amber L. Johnson, Eight Days a Week

“Cool.” I was trying to act like I didn’t care, but my inner kid was running around snorting pixie sticks.”
― Amber L. Johnson, Eight Days a Week

“I do.” My response was too quick, and I reprimanded myself for appearing too eager. That thought was followed by the thought of eager beaver and finally beaver, which led me to thinking about that woman’s beaver and—”
― Amber L. Johnson, Eight Days a Week

“Wednesday: A thousand kids running around and trampling each other on the slides at Monkey Joe’s. Afraid for Brady’s safety and had to leave before I punched an eight-year-old in the face”
― Amber L. Johnson, Eight Days a Week

“The look of impressed wonder made my inner teenager lock himself in the bathroom with a Playboy.”
― Amber L. Johnson, Eight Days a Week