I wish I was a rabbit

A friend of mine suggested I start a blog.  Apparently the conversations I overhear between my two children, or that I have with my children should be "shared".

I have four children.  Two have grown and left home....two remain.  The remaining children are a 14 yr. old boy I call Bubba and a 6 yr. old girl I call Banana.  While I love them both very much, there is rarely a day that goes by that doesn't consist of the thought of "I wish I had been a rabbit".  Why a rabbit you ask? Well, because rabbits eat their young, of course.

For example, after dinner we read a bible story before bed.  Last nights story was about Noah's Ark, since this is my daughters favorite.  After finishing the story, my son says, "I believe God has a sense of humor."  I agree with him.  However, over the past 14 yrs. you would think I would have learned not to ask, "Why?".  So, thinking he is going to talk about the size of the ark, or building the ark during a drought...I open my mouth and predictably ask, "Why?"  To my surprise (though, nothing these kids say should surprise me anymore), he responds "Because He created farts."  His father snickers and says, "he has a point", while I'm left wishing I had been a rabbit.

There are times I am glad I was not a rabbit.  These times usually fall when I am overhearing a conversation as opposed to being a part of the conversation.  This mornings conversation between the two children was one of those times when I enjoyed the fact that I could sit back and just laugh (hysterically mind you) at the conversation in the other room.

Bubba: "UGH! This bathroom STINKS!"
Banana: "I pooped!"
Bubba: "Well come spray the rose stuff".
Banana sprays the bathroom, "There it smells like roses now"
Bubba: "Yeah, roses with poop on them".
Banana: "Well YOUR poop doesn't smell good either"
Bubba: "It doesn't smell THAT bad"
Banana: "Yeah, cuz you poop roses out your butt"

Then they were off on the school bus, and I am home, waiting and wondering what will happen next.  I'm sure, no matter what it is, I will be left either wishing I had been a rabbit or glad that I am not.