SnarkyMoms

We were in Blockbuster tonight, and while in the drama section, my daughter pointed to a movie and asked me if it had “horrors” in it.  Only, it didn’t sound like “horrors”.  See, I’ve got a hick, Southern accent, and because she’s spent most of her life listening to me, she’s picked up a lot of my accent.  So, instead of “horrors”, it sounded like “whores”.  In other words:

Daughter: “Does this movie have any whores in it?”

Dad: “What?!”

Me” “She means horror.”

We’re trying the squid ink spaghetti tonight.

My daughter will try absolutely anything.  I would have loved for her to be with us the first time we went to London, when we were served an itty bitty octopus, complete with eyes, head, tentacles, and suckers.  She wouldn’t have used a knife and fork, but she would have put it right into her mouth.  My son, on the other hand, is so unadventurous that he turns up his nose at everything.  I would tell you that I could count the number of foods he’ll eat on one hand, but that would only be true if I lost a couple of fingers.  He enjoys macaroni and cheese, chicken fingers, and pizza.  He’s even fairly picky about the pizza.

So, guess which one of my kids picked the squid ink spaghetti.  If you guess my daughter, you’d be WRONG.  I asked them, “Who wants to try this” and pointed to the spaghetti in question.  He looked thoughtful for a moment, picked it up, and put it in the cart.

I think he’s hoping that trying this will get him out of experimenting with aubergines this summer.