Funny Things Kids Say. . .

Here is a great example of why you should rarely believe what children tell you.  If you have been following my blog you know that my hubby fell on the ice and did major damage to his knee.  My youngest, Big T went to school and shared the story with his friends.  The whole incident really bothered Big T, he did not handle his dad being in the hospital and not being able to see him and me not coming home from the hospital till after he had gone to bed.   The day hubbs was coming home from the hospital Big T got sick and ended up not going to school.
Fast forward to this week at the baseball field.  We ran into one of Big T's favorite substitute teachers, she wanted to know how the hubbs was doing and she shared what one of Big T's friends told her happened to his dad.  She said they told her an icicle fell on his dad and that sent him to the hospital.  We all just about fell out laughing.   Kids crack me up with what they get out of things they are told, especially mine.
Occasionally they do get it right.  Sprat came home from elementary school one day and said they had a bomb threat.  I laughed and said, do you mean a bomb drill?  He said no, it was a bomb threat.  I think he was maybe in third grade at this point, so I was a little skeptical.  I asked him what they did.  He said they had to go out on the track outside and that they were out there for a really long time.  A "really" long time to my son is waiting five minutes for me to serve some ice cream.   Then he tells me they bused them to the middle school where they stayed in their gym.  Ok, so evidently he was right and this was indeed a bomb threat.  I freaked just a little bit and Sprat was really freaked.    Some kid had called in a bomb threat and thankfully they took it seriously and got the kids out and away from the school.   Have not had any more of those, thank goodness.
Big T gets his ability to tell a story from me, I think.  When I was in third grade I had to write a story about a super hero.  My super hero was "Big Bad Bernice," Bernice is my mothers' name.  I wrote about my mom.  I did not know they were going to post these stories on the bulletin board in the hall for parent night.  Needless to say, from that point forward my mom was known as "Big Bad Bernice."  My mom, my sister and I all played softball for our Church and that nickname followed mom on to the softball field.  She was one heck of a second baseman.  She played softball until she was mid 60's, she was one tough cookie.   She is still a tough lady but she retired her softball jersey after she suffered a bad broken nose from a ball to the face.  
Mom and dad will be celebrating 60 years of marriage in May.  That says it all.