Lebowski

The other day, I was sitting on the couch, knitting and watching television*.  Doodlebug was on the floor, Creating Important Art. 

All of the sudden, he looked up at me, and said, "Mommy, you know when people frow up?" 

"Yes," I said.

"What's that orange stuff?"

...

"I guess it's carrots," he said.

And this?  This is why I have sons, because throw up questions amuse me, and the serious nature of such questions amuse me.
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And so yesterday, we were in the car, after picking him up at after-school, and the little shit said this.  "Mommy?  The other day, I asked you something and you said you didn't know.  Only one time before that, I asked you how you knew something, and you said that you know everything, so I guess you don't."

Logic is going to kill me with this child. 
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Doodlebug went to a party on Saturday, the party of another child in his class, at the bowling lanes.  I'm going to say that, perhaps, six year olds are a bit young for bowling, but they did have fun, even if it was a matter of whirling around and discuss-throwing bowling balls as hard as possible down the lanes, resulting in a pinball like effect of bumper-bouncing down the lane.

I didn't really know any of the other mothers, and they were all super nice, but still.  I'm terribly uncomfortable in these settings.  Would have been MUCH better if a pitcher of Miller Lite or what-all had appeared, but it didn't.  Note to self:  never throw a kid party without some alcohol available for the adults.  I did find a smoker-friend, so that helped.

When they went up to get the kids' shoes, and we were all in line, and our kids were running around blowing these kazoo things, this prick comes up to us and huffily asks, "who is the parent of this party?"  We kind of point toward the mother, but he doesn't go directly to her.  Instead, he unleashes on all of us.  "We are in the middle of a tournament, here, and the noise is very distracting.  These kids need to be quiet."

For the record, the kids were actually all behaving pretty damned well, and the bowling alley is responsible for booking a birthday party at the same time as a tournament, not the mother, and, well, what an asshole.

Anyway, I didn't say anything, but I did watch the party mom get a little upset, and I could tell she felt kind of bad, and that really pissed me off, so I volunteered to go round up some balls for the little poppets.

What a douchebag.

Ultimately, it was fine, and then later the party grandma walked way out on one of the lanes to fetch a stuck ball, and I realized I like these people, they are my kind of people, but still.  I didn't know any of them, and there wasn't beer.

I completely hate children's birthday parties. 

The doodlebug had fun.

The dude abides.