Thursday, December 13, 2007

Emily Post

In the midst of the screaming sobbing mayhem that is our daily exit for school, Stryker was the eye, silent.

Seems he was contemplating ethics, 11-year old boy style, because once in the van he had these questions.

"If I say 'I don't mean any offense, but you're a real idiot' is that rude?"

Me (can't help myself): "I guess it depends on who you're talking to. Some people are real idiots."

He contemplates that one for a second.

Then: "Why is it that when we're home and we have a guest, our family rule is 'the guest rules.' But when we're at someone else's house and we're the guest, our family rule is that the host comes first?"

Me: "That's so you're the polite one every time."

Ah, the question was just bait.

Stryker leaps and grabs: "That's totally unfair and one-sided. I knew that rule wasn't fair. You just admitted I always have to suffer. Why am I always the one that suffers?"

We hear honking. A mean driver, I nearly join in out of sheer blood lust.

Thrilled, Merrick points to the two dueling vehicles" "Look! That idiot is honking at the idiot!"

Boy, I am laying some quality psycho-social groundwork here.

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