trade ya

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{image is a very silly photo of Brooke and Katie. at the zoo a couple of years ago. I think Katie is trying to kiss her sister, though one can never be entirely sure.}

A note to my more literal-minded friends: The following is drenched in sarcasm. I assure you that no one in my family would actually throw anyone (including our furry friends) out a window, nor would they trade one another for a salty snack. Promise.

Wednesday night at dinner, Brooke suggested that we play “Would You Rather,” a game that she apparently plays in a group at school. Given that we pretty much never have one integrated conversation (rather than three simultaneous ones) at the dinner table (or pretty much ever), I was thrilled.

She began, asking if we’d rather hang out with Annie or June (from the Little Einsteins). I answered Annie. Katie said June. Katie asked if we would rather eat a huge bowl of a food we hate and then never have to eat it again OR of we’d rather eat a small bite of it every day for the rest of our lives. I said one bowl. Brooke said a bowl, then tried to pass, then said a tiny piece. That one was a little confusing.

Finally, after a few more rounds, Katie asked if we would rather throw our dog out the window or throw our sibling out the window. I looked at poor, innocent little Winston, who was keeping a Please Drop Some Food vigil at my chair, his sweet brown eyes ever hopeful. Then I thought of my sister, who would likely be cradling my beautiful new niece and would likely put up a hell of a fight. I glanced over at the window, just a couple of feet off the ground, and decided that Winston would be just fine. “Dog,” I said.

Brooke had gathered her plate and asked to be excused. As she stood up from the table, Katie said, “Brooke, you didn’t answer yet. Would you rather throw your dog out the window or your sibling?”

It couldn’t have been a better set up. She was Abbot and she’d just handed Brooke Costello the pie that she was about to throw right back in her face. With perfect comedic timing, intended or not, Brooke said, “Sibling,” then walked away.

Mic.

Drop.

I couldn’t stop laughing.

Yesterday morning, Katie and I were talking before school. Her voice dripping with mock horror, she said, “I still can’t believe Brooke would throw me out the window!”

“Dude,” I said, “you know she wouldn’t actually throw you out the window. You set her up.”

“But she didn’t have to say me,” she said, jutting her bottom lip out into an exaggerated pout, “She could have said the dog.”

“Um, babe,” I said, “Do you remember that you once said that you would trade your sister FOR A BAG OF DORITOS???”

“That’s totally not true,” she said.

I gave her the side eye as I said, “Reeeeeally?”

“Really,” she said, indignant. “It was a bag of Fritos and that was totally different.”

“Um, how do you figure?” I asked, dying to hear this.

“Because,” she said, summoning every bit of condescension she could, “I was getting something in return!”

She couldn’t do it anymore.

She burst out laughing.

I love my kids.

2 thoughts on “trade ya

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