Because I Said So

I promised myself I would not employ that phrase in my maternal vocabulary.   I told my naivety it is only fair to a child to give her a good reason for whatever you were wanting her to do.  I assumed it would only take a little imagination and creativity to come up with sufficient answers to the inevitable challenges to my authority.

And then somehow, somewhere, someone (obviously inspired by the devil himself) said the phrase, "But, whyyyyyyyy?" around my verbal little copy-cat sponge.  With a little pause and a slight breath after the 'but' and a long and drawn out 'why' with a falling tone, it was the worst possible combination of two words for her to overhear.

Would you just please observe a moment of silence for me?  

While I have not yet broken my promise, I am running out of anything else to say.  I mean, who can come up with 7 answers to 'butwhy' in 120 seconds?  I am NOT exaggerating.

I have tried the following:

"What are you talking about?"

"That doesn't make any sense at all?"

"What did you say? Is that English?"

"Blah, blah, blah, blah"

"Because the sky will fall down on you if you don't"

"Because the monster in the disposal will come out and eat you"

"Because you will turn into a frog"

"Because, because, because, because, because.....because of the wonderful things he does"

(OK, I've only used first half, but I have thought the rest.)

What would you say?  But, why?

(This post is part of Watercooler Wednesday at Ethos.)

Thank You, Encyclopedia Brown

I have been pondering The Case Of The Vanishing Breakfast for sometime. Each day, as I prepare my morning meal, I serve myself generous portions - surely more than I will need. After the tasty repast has been consumed, however, I find that my tummy is not full, and I can usually only remember taking a couple of bites.  What happened to all that food if it did not reach its planned destination?  I began to suspect that mine was not the only tummy being filled, but I had no real proof.  A mystery, indeed.

I decided to look to a few experts for a solution.  What would Sherlock Holmes, Guy Noir, Nancy Drew, Jupiter Jones, Trixie Belden and Encyclopedia Brown do in a case like this? Follow the clues, of course.   

Like any good private eye, I set my trap and staked out the scene.  Voila!  I procured photographic evidence of a little-known creature rumored to be completely imaginary:  The Breakfast Elf.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you irrefutable proof that she exists:

Don't be surprised if you hear about this ground-breaking discovery on NPR.  If I don't return your calls in the next few days, it's probably because I am busy with interviews.  Or because my phone reception at my house is non-existent.  One of those.

Broaching The Subject

Butterfly and I had our first conversation about death this morning. 

B:  What is that, Mommy?

M:  It is a dead bug.

B:  A dead bug?

M:  Yes.

B:  I want to look at it.

M:  You can go look at it, but don't touch it.  It is dirty.  I need to throw it away.

B:  You want to hold it?

M:  No, it's dirty!

B:  It can move around?

M:  No, it can't move around.  It's dead.

B:  You get some batteries?

M:  (unable to speak due to laughter)

After I took the picture, she looked at it on the camera and said, "That bug is really hard to see!"