Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Last night when I called the boys up for dinner Adam and Joseph proudly showed me their legs hands and feet. Here are a few pictures.
Adam: Momma, look. (as he holds out his hands, legs and feet while sitting up to the bar and over hot pans and bowls of food ready to eat)
Mom: Where's the marker, what else did you write on?
Joseph: Mom I put the marker away and we only wrote on each other. (as he gives me a, how stupid do you think we are, look)
Mom: Why did you write on each other?
Joseph: We are playing a game.
Adam: I'm the Daddy tiger.
Joseph: No, Adam you're the Boy tiger, I'm the Dad tiger.
Adam: I'm hungry, I want rice!
Joseph: I'm only eating meat, tigers eat meat.
Adam: Tigers eat rice.
What's up with war paint, tribal markings? I have this picture in my head of how it all started; two little cave boys rushing into their cave momma and covered in mud stripes. They proudly hold their little appendages up for her to see, dangling them over the hot, steaming mammoth roast that's ready to eat.
Cave Momma: arghmph, what you mud?
Cave Boys: huhmph, mud good, saber tooths. (as they proudly point to their chests.)
Cave Momma: Whatmph?
Cave Boys : Tiger, kill, mammoth. (as they use their muddy hands to draw on the walls of the cave.
I bet Cave Momma told them they had to clean the mud off the walls which would be why, today, we have hieroglyphs, and scrubbing sponges, and Prozac.