Where's The Application?
Last night, Lo and I were watching Super Nanny, an episode where the family had twin six-year-old boys and a five-year-old girl who pitched epic fits at the dinner table and couldn't wipe their own asses. As appalled as Jo was, Lo was fascinated.
Lo: How old was I when I started wiping myself?
TR: Too old. Four, I think. You could skate and ride a bike.
Lo: Wow. How long do you think that kid will sit at the table not eating her carrots? Just eat 'em already.
TR: You're one to talk. Look--she's starting to nod off. That's right; send her straight to bed.
(Cutting to commercial, they flash the website and call to apply for the show)
TR: Ooh, I'm SO gonna sign us up. See if she can straighten you out.
Lo: Whatever. I would just behave while she's here. You'll look like the one with the problem.
TR: I don't think you could do it.
Lo: Be glad you don't have fourthlets.
Lo: What's it called when you have four babies?
Lo: How about twelve?