A Conversation with Em

--Mom, do you think our family is unusual?
--In what way?
--I don’t know. Like we’re messier than other families.
--Is that what you mean by unusual?
--No, not really.
--So what do you mean by unusual?
--I don’t know.
--Well, I guess, no, I don’t think our family is unusual.
--You don’t think we’re unusual because all the people in our family are writers, and you’re kind of famous, even if people don’t recognize you on the street or anything like that?
--Well, if that’s what you mean by unusual, then yes, I guess we are. But it’s a good kind of unusual.
--Yeah, I guess so.
--But you’re not sure.
--...
--Because you didn't mean that kind of unusual. You're still thinking about the messy kind of unusual.
--(Sheepishly) Yeah.
--You do realize we aren’t the only people in the world with a messy house. We’re not even the only people we know with a messy house.
--Yeah, but ours is the messiest of all.
--That's SO NOT TRUE.
--Yeah, mom. It is. Deal with it.

I would hope it goes without saying that she's exaggerating. Our house is NOT the messiest of all. (My car, on the other hand...) Then again, I've learned never to assume that ANYTHING goes without saying. After all, I would have thought that N's new 'do would have been obviously his own doing, and yet when he told his teacher, "My mommy did this," she BELIEVED HIM. (He wasn't actually lying, of course; I did even it out, but only after he'd made the first cuts.)

Damned kids and their damned honesty. They're lucky they make me laugh.