Gordon: Tuna has something.
I spin toward Tuna who is crouched in a hunting position by the raised dog water dish.
Me: What do you have? Is it a scorpion? Please don’t be a scorpion.
Gordon: It’s probably a lizard again.
Kid 1: What’s going on?
Me: Tuna has something!
Kid 1: Not again.
Gordon, dropping down to look under the water dish, because lifting it would startle the critter and the critter would run and Tuna would chase.
Me: What is it?
Gordon: It’s a pen.
Me: A what?
Gordon: A pen.
I lift the water dish and Tuna bats the pen across the kitchen and gives chase.
Kid 1: The chicken soft tacos were delicious, mom.
Me: Thank you.
Kid 1: But the tortillas didn’t taste as good as they do normally.
Me: That’s because they are not fresh HEB tortillas. They are the Mission kind…
Kid1, making big eyes: Oh no.
Fresh HEB tortillas are delicious but they must be eaten within 48 hours or they grow mold. They are preservative-free.
Kid 2: I can’t come over. Feel sorry for me.
Kid 2: You know how our neighbors have that really aggressive little dog? He is scared of Artha but when he smells Quincy through the fence, he snarls at him and barks. Quincy gets really upset but he is a nincompoop, so to prove his toughness, he bites grass and shakes it around.
Me: He what?
Kid 2: He bites grass. Because he thinks it makes him ferocious. He has now swallowed a bunch of it, so I can’t come over, because Quin-cinerator is pooping grass all over the porch and I need to make sure he is done.