Domesticated Hippos in Paris….and other observations

Little Guy:

Mom, can we get a real baby hippo one day?

What would you do with it?

Take it for a walk.

But where would it live?

Under my bed, and in the pool.


Mom, what color is normal?

I’m sorry. What?


It’s, um. I’m sorry, buddy, I….



Mom, what’s under our house?

The basement.

And under the basement?


And under the soil?


And under the rocks?


And under the magma?

A…ball of fire?


(Darn that geological knowledge void.)


Mom, what’s that in Deutsch?



What specifically, buddy?

Mom. THAT!! (pointing in general direction of living room, earth, thin air, space.)

(Contemplating a wild guess and offering 500 German nouns within the vicinity.)  

Ugh. Let’s just eat a snack.


Mom, what’s that blue thing on that brown thing?

(Weighing snack options.)


Big Girl:

Mom, can we go to Paris?


Mom, can I have lunch?

It’s 8:30 AM.

I’m hungry.

You just had breakfast.

Okay, can I watch something on TV then?

How’s that going to fill your belly?

Oh, so I can eat something then?


Mom, I’m bored.

Okay, please help me with the dishes then.

Just a sec.



Are you coming?

Just a sec., mom, I’m kinda busy now.

Marion Kase is a Berks County, PA mom of two. This post was adopted from her blog, Helicopter-Caterpillar.

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