Tag Archives: the smell of freedom

Goofy Monday a la French, and some other unknown land…

Hey, look, it’s Monday! And I have a new Goofy Monday post for you. Don’t you feel lucky? Oh, is that Irish luck rubbing on you? Well, you’ll have to wait a week for that. Nope, it’s French luck. Check out the French connection in the first two conversations. My kids have French blood running through their veins and they know it!

The smell of freedom
Son #2 (getting out of the car at San Diego’s Balboa Park): “Aaaaahhh, smell that? It’s the smell of freedom.”
Son #1: “No it’s not. It smells like croissant.”
Incidentally there was a croissant in my bag, so I think Son #1 may have been correct. But I’ll give Son #2 an A for his figurative sense of smell.

What color is your rainbow?
Son #2 (drawing a rainbow): “Red first. Then orange…”
Me (looking at him drawing): “Isn’t the orange is supposed to go on top of the red, not below?”
Son #1: “Maybe in France it’s like that, but here the red is a the bottom of the rainbow.”
I’m so bad at drawing rainbows, I had to google the answer. And just so you know, French rainbows look the same as American rainbows. I obviously have no clue, but for my defense, I’d like to add that when you see a double rainbow, the lower rainbow displays the colors in reverse, since it’s a reflection of the other rainbow. Maybe that’s what I was thinking of…

The colors of the double rainbow

The colors of the double rainbow

What’s your Native American name?
Son #2: “In class, we’re picking Native American names. You have to pick a nature name and an animal name, and put them together. What do you want to be?”
Me: “Oh, I’d like to be something soft.”
Son #2: “How about… a porcupine?”
Me: “Uh, maybe something a little softer.”
Ouch, I wouldn’t want to cuddle with one of those. By the way, I ended up being Snow Bear.

You’re not welcome in my imaginary land
Son #2 is talking on a cell phone, pretending…
Me: “Who are you calling?”
Son #2: “I don’t have to tell you who I’m pretending to call.” (what can I say ? He’s practicing his teenage attitude…)
Son #2 continues to talk, and now I’m listening…
Son #2: “Hi, I’m calling from Metro Decor*. I’m trying to recover a dead sloth. I’m about to go on the bunny of terror.”
Wow, I know who to ask if I’m looking for storybook inspiration!
*Metro Decor is a furniture store that advertises on the radio.

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