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A Taste

A Conversation Wherein I Try to Discern Complex Details from a Six-Year-Old Obsessed With Possibly Misplaced Priorities (AKA "the bubbles vs. the answers")

Me: Quinn, tell me about the tests you took in school today.

Quinn: Oh yeah - Dr. H read to us from a book.

Me: Oh! So, did you have to answer questions about what she read to you?

Quinn: Well, we had to fill in the bubbles and stay in the lines.

Me: Yeah, I know that - you have to color in the bubble next to the right answer. But what kinds of questions were they, Quinn?

Quinn: There weren't any QUESTIONS. She turned the pages and we had to stay in the lines when we filled in the bubbles!

Me (perplexed): O....kay. Well, how did you know which bubbles to fill in?

Quinn (irritated because his mother is a moron): SIGH! You had to stay in the lines when you filled them in! I've told you this already!

Me: Let's start over. Dr. H read from a book, right?

Quinn: Right.

Me: And then she asked you a question, and you had to fill in the bubble next to the right answer -- were the answers pictures, or numbers, or words?

Quinn: She didn't ask any questions! She was just reading! All we had to do was listen and then fill in the right bubble and stay in the lines. I'm tired of telling you this!!!

Me (not willing to let it go): Okay, well let me ask you this: were you filling in bubbles next to pictures?

Quinn (annoyed, losing focus): Yes, there were pictures.

Me (drunk on falsely perceived success): Hmm! Now we're getting somewhere. Were they shapes, or animals, or something else?

Quinn (now looking out the window): ...I can't remember.

Me (face planted in remaining dinner on plate): Oh.

Car Rides: Still Torture After All These Years

I was reading through some of my posts from early 2006, a whole three years ago now, and I was surprised to read a description of driving with the kids that sounded like something I could write today. Something about one hand on the wheel, one hand flailing in the back seat to keep the two toddlers effectively separated from one another. On the one hand, I've been thinking we've come so far in our parenting trek and that some of the infant and toddler hardships are definitely behind us. But on the other hand, I think maybe this is just one of the stories I tell myself to keep my few remaining shreds of sanity intact. Because honestly, just this morning on the way to the kids' soccer game I was one vein-bulging moment away from my head exploding and causing John to, in shock and disgust, careen off the road, all while Bryce and Quinn undoubtedly continue "humming" one single insanity-inducing note at exponentially increasing decibel levels. The blood and guts and crashing metal wouldn't stop them. Believe me. Nothing. Stops. Them. On the bright side, they have great tone recognition. If this apparent talent turns them into a successful two-man band, I think some potential band names could be Incessant, Madness, or Incessant Madness.