The things we say

Occasionally, I look up and realize the words that come out of my mouth. Sometimes, I am invoking my mother- or even my grandmother. Sometimes, I have to think to myself... did I really just say that?

For instance.... (don't you love these blogs?)

- Bennie, do not lick the door. No, don't lick that one either.

- Bennie, don't lick your brother. That's not nice.

- Inside screams! PLEASE!

- Bennie, please don't lick that business card.

- No, just because it's 'just us girls' does not mean you can go skinny dipping.

- That's a great question- call your grandfather.

- Bennie, stop licking my shoulder. I am not a salt lick.

- No, Bennie- you cannot feed your brother. That's great, yes, I see that you're taking off your shirt and pointing to your ta-tas. No, yours don't work.

- Bennie, no licking the floor.

- Where did Fuzzy come from? Call your grandfather.

- If you're going to dance on the counter, please don't dance on the stove.

- Leenie, it is not polite to do that at other people's houses... unless it is an emergency. Even then, it's not an emergency every time. -- A mother's advice on bathroom etiquette

- Listen, if you think you're going to throw up- don't do it in the pool. You just swallow it back. -- I actually didn't say this, but totally knew what that mom was saying.

- Please don't lick your food- bite it. You too, Leenie.

- Leenie, you are't a puppy. Please don't lap your milk. Yes, you do sound like a puppy. Being on all fours is cute, but sit at the tab-- stop licking your brother!


and one final one....


- Me: I love this song. Who sings it?
 Twenty Something at the gym: Rhianna, Kanye, and some old guy
 Me: What's the name?
 Twenty Something at the gym: FourFive Seconds
 Me.... on iTunes, looking it up.... a pause and I raise my eyebrows: You mean Paul McCartney?
 Twenty Something at the gym: Yeah, I think so. Does he play the guitar?
 Me: Yeah... he's a Beatle.
 Twenty Something at the gym: [insert blank stare here]

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