Upon waking up every morning, the Supergirl routinely lets out a fart the sound, smell, and size of which (genetically speaking) could only have come from her father. This past Friday, she let it go and as I wiped the tears from my eyes and struggled to catch my breath, I asked, "Good God, my child! What has crawled up inside of you and died?"
Without blinking, without even hesitating, she responded, "A tiger."
"Really? A tiger? How did a tiger get in there?"
"He crawled up my butt bagina."
Riding in the car, I hear the girl singing, I turn the radio down just in time to hear:
"I love rock n roll, so put another quarter in the juice box baby."
I am pretty sure that's what they meant all along.
Upon looking at my c-section scar this morning in the shower, she says to me, "Momma, I was really close to your vulva. Are babies supposed to be down there?"
After eating two helpings of shrimp and veggie stir fry, she says, "It's no wonder that you're so fat, momma. You cook too dang good. I am gonna be fat too."
So sweet. I guess.
When asked about her kitten. "She's cute, but who knew that kittens could make so much poop? I need a poop-free kitten, this one is smelling up the place."
Upon seeing her godfather for the first time since Christmas, "Um, I don't know what your job is here, but I don't ever see you. What do godfathers do anyway?"
I may also be raising a nerd girl. Her current fascination is with the X-Men movies. This is her synopsis.
"There is a new villain. Her name is Jean, she is very powerful, but she can't control it and that is really bad. Wolverine can heal himself and has adamantium claws that shoot out of his fists. Storm is my favorite, she can make the weather. Mystique can change form, which is cool, but she is blue and kinda scaly, at least Storm gets to look like a normal human when she's not using her power."
She's definitely paying attention.
I got a new phone this week. When I picked her up from school yesterday, she said, "I told the kids about your phone. They added you to the cool moms list."
"Oh, where was I before?"
"You were on the old mom list. You are the oldest mom at my school."
"Really? Are you sure?"
"There aren't any other moms that were born during the '50's in my class."
No, I guess there aren't.