September 2013 Quote Book

Isaac was having a rough day. Falling to pieces. Yelling.
Isaac: Everywhere I go I get in trouble! If I go upstairs I get in trouble! If I go in the piano room I get in trouble! If I go in the toy room I get in trouble! If I go outside I get in trouble! I'm just always in trouble! So where am I supposed to go?
Me: Hmm, I can only think of one place where you won't get in trouble. Mars.
flipping into a perfect astronaut voice and without missing a beat
Isaac: Come in earth. This is Mars speaking. We have trouble. I repeat, trouble on Mars. Over.
I laughed.
Me: Well in that case, I guess the only place where you won't get in trouble is. . . my arms.
that was a good hug. full of smiles.


Everyone was quiet while the sacrament was being passed. Lydia opened a hymn book and began thumbing through the pages. Suddenly she exclaimed,
"I singing mommy! I mermaid!"
And then she went right into her (very loud) rendition of Ariel,
"Aaahhh, Aaahhh, Aaaaaaaahhhhhh. . ."
We tried our darndest (mid stifling laughter) to shush her but she wouldn't have it.
"I mermaid! Aaahhh, Aaahh, I singing, Aaahhhh, Aaaaaaaahhhhh"
our entire front and middle pew was shaking with silent laughter. . .
that night Nate and I taught our Fourth (and sadly probably not final) Family Night lesson in a row on whispering.


Conversation with Lydia:
Liddy: Momma wook! My hammas a meat!
Me: Your pajamas are meat?
Liddy: No, not meat. Meat!
Me: Meat?
Liddy: No, not meat. Meat!
Me: Meat?
Liddy: No, momma not meat. Meat!
Me: Just teasin' ya. I know what you meant. You're pajamas are pink.
Liddy: Yeah, momma. Meat.
see? I've become pro at translating wookie.


Clayton's piano teacher is always trying to get him to "tell a story" with his music. The problem is, he always disagrees with her interpretation of the musical story. Their conversations always end badly. The other day, he interupted her and said,
"You know, I realized something about music. Music is a story that everyone hears differently."
well said. . .


Nate was making pancakes. Eliza was watching him mix the batter.
"Why are you making pancakes in a throw-up bowl?"
clearly, our recent (and terrible) bout with the flu left a lasting impression.


Eliza was sick - on an IV in the ER. When the doctor came in after midnight to tell us we were finally okay to go home Eliza said,
"Home? Where's home? Is that in Utah?"
We laughed. No, it's here in Houston.
"Oh. . . Houston. (sigh) It's been a really long day."
Yes. It. Has.


The boys had some friends over for a nerf tournament. The whole house became a battle zone. At one point they discovered they could scare Eliza and make her scream - which added to the whole battle atmosphere. One of Clayton's friends (an only child) came and found me. He was holding his ears.
"Your house is a lot noisier than mine."
that, my dear friend, is the understatement of the universe.