Evil PXE (pronounced Pixie) and I made a Costco run at lunch today. I treated him to a hotdog and soda (CrafterKat and I call this a Cheap Date after the many hotdogs we ate there one summer) and discussed the Intel lay-offs, car mat accessories, and our kids.
Yesterday was Critter's first volleyball game, I told him. I dragged myself out of bed--I've been sick on and off (mostly 'on' CrafterKat would say) with sniffles, sneezes and coughs--and went to her first Intramural game. I found the gaggle of yellow t-shirt clad kids and cheered her on. She was the first to serve for her team and scored early on. Despite early successes, The Banana Splits lost both of their games. It didn't seem to phase Critter much--she encouraged her teammates with a hearty "Way to go!" and "Go Splits!"
Evil PXE shared stories of playing whiffle ball with his four-year old daughter and the challenges facing them as she approaches Kindergarten. "My kids are so different!" he repeated several times and recounted how when his daughter was his son's age (he is two), she was already figuring out the whole potty training routine."He just doesn't get it. Doesn't even know it's happening, you know?" He sighed and ate another bite of his hot dog. "I think I'm going to have to buy some cool panties or something."
I laughed. "You might be careful how you say that! You mean underwear for him, right? Girls wear panties, boys wear underwear."
He nodded and laughed good-naturedly.
"Underoos, right?" I asked.
He nodded again and pretended to hold up a pair of small undergarments, raising his voice an octave. "Yes! I need to buy cool panties! Maybe with Strawberry Shortcake on them..?"
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