Tough chickens, beggars don’t ride fishes, and other phrases

Sometimes when one of the kids is whining about how much they want something, what I think in my head is, “Yeah? Tough shit.” But I don’t *say* tough shit, because swearing at children is frowned upon by society for some reason. So I had to come up with something else to say, and what I came up with was, “tough chickens”.

“But I don’t want to set the table!” “Tough chickens, do it anyway.” “I know we’re late for school, but none of my socks feel right!” “Tough chickens.” “But dad, I don’t want to eat supper, this poultry is too hard to chew! “Touch chickens.”

I’ve said it so often that the children just assume it’s part of the English language, an accepted phrase, and I’ve heard them say it to each other. In fact, one time I told Ollie I made it up and he refused to believe me.

Another phrase you can’t say to kids is, “Wish in one hand and shit in the other, and see which one fills up first.” I mean, it’s really a shame, because there are some scenarios where that one would just be PERFECT. But there are two phrases that mean about the same thing, that are *almost* as lyrical: “if wishes were horses, then beggars would ride” and “if wishes were fishes, we’d all cast nets”.

A little more child friendly that telling a kid to shit in their hand (and less risky, too. Kids can be disturbingly literal at times). Anyway, I like the sound of “wishes were fishes” and I like the sound of “then beggars would ride”, so I told my kids the phrase was, “If wishes were fishes, then beggars would ride.”

When Evelyn got old enough she said it didn’t make sense. Naturally, I explained that the whole phrase was, “if wishes were fishes, then beggars would ride. Fishes.” (I always say the fishes part as kind of an aside, like I was explaining.)

She seemed to accept this for a while, but eventually she must have heard the full horses one somewhere because one day she got fed up. She said, “Daddy! Beggars don’t ride fishes! They ride horses.” And I said, “Well, if you have wishes, why stop at horses?”

Right about now you’re probably thinking what a good father I am, and you’re right.

So this one time we were at the swimming pool, and the kids wanted to play a game they had learned. “It’s called sharks and fishes,” they said. “Can I just kind of float here?” I asked. “No, that’s not how you play. You have to try to swim away so the shark doesn’t eat you.” “Ooooh, I was thinking of a different game,” I said. “It’s called sharks and hotdogs. It’s kind of the same thing, except the hot dogs just have to float there while the shark eats them, because hot dogs can’t swim.”

“Daddy!” said Evelyn, who does not appreciate this sort of genius as much as she aught to, “That doesn’t make any sense. Sharks do not eat hot dogs.” “Oh yeah?” I said. “Then where did they get the phrase, ‘like a shark with a hot dog’?” “That’s not a phrase,” she said suspiciously. (But I mean, honestly, does it make any less sense than some other, more legitimate phrases? ) “Yes it is,” I said. “You say it when something is really fast. Like, ‘wow, he ran that race faster than a shark with a hot dog!'”

Anyway, this is just a long way to say that I convinced my kids to use “faster than a shark with a hot dog” in everyday conversation.

But don’t stop there! Let’s talk about how my uncle Scott invented the phrase “awesome snaps”:

Now that I am officially old (in the eyes of my kids), nothing I say or do is very cool. To illustrate this, I made up the phrase “awesome snaps” that I use to say something is cool; like Ginger snaps, but more awesome. I did this specifically in order to get an eye roll from my daughter, who assures me, at every occasion, that “awesome snaps” is NOT a THING, and never will be.

Oh, it will be. Ohhhh it will be.

I mean, look, if you aren’t interested in molding the minds of the next generation, why even HAVE kids, amiright? And if they don’t like it? Tough chickens.

Sara decided being pregnant wasn’t hard enough, so she broke her foot

This baby is really going to be tired of hearing about this one for the rest of its life.

On Thursday, Sara was walking to get the kids at school when she stepped on some loose gravel while crossing the street. Her foot twisted under her, and she fell to her hands and knees. She called me right after and said that it hurt pretty bad, but we both assumed it was just a twisted ankle. She could still walk on it, even though it hurt pretty badly, so we decided to just kind of wait and see what happened.

So she finished the walk to school, picked up the kids, and walked home.

That night she was certainly having a lot of trouble hobbling around, and cried out a few times from pain, but she didn’t even take any Tylenol or anything. Even though it didn’t swell that much, we were still certain it was a sprain. In retrospect, all of the bruising and pain were localized to a *very specific* part of the foot, but hindsight is 20/20.

Anyway, the next morning it didn’t seem much better, so she called first thing for a doctor’s appointment. She was on hold for 30 minutes, and by the time they answered, there were no appointments left. She also tried to page her doctor, but didn’t get a call back. “Oh well,” she decided. “I guess I’ll just stay off it over the weekend and see if it’s better by Monday.”

Her doctor finally called back 7 hours later and said she would take a look if Sara could come over right away (good thing she works at the hospital!). They decided to do x-rays, but didn’t think they’d be able to read them until the next day, so Sara started walking home. When she was halfway home, the doctor called back and said, “Your foot is broken, you have to come back to the hospital!”

So she turned around and walked back.

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We figured out later that between when she fell (about 3 p.m. on Thursday) and when it was diagnosed (about 5:30 p.m. on Friday), she walked about 5 miles on it.

That’s totally worse than walking uphill both ways to school.

The doctor said 6 – 8 weeks for the boot, which means it won’t be off before the baby is born. I’m not sure why adding a broken foot makes labor seem that much worse, but labor with a broken foot just seems that much worse.

The main problem is that Sara walks *everywhere*, and we’re pretty dependent on that to get around. She has the car now, but it doesn’t really help; we can’t really park closer to work or school than our house anyway (this is assuming that Sara is even able to drive). So the next couple of weeks just got a bit trickier.

Let no one say that Sara doesn’t like a challenge!

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Happy Halloween

Another cold and rainy Halloween, but we managed to survive it (at least there wasn’t hail this year!). We were back home and eating chili before dark, and ended the night cuddled up under blankets on the couch for candy eating and Nightmare Before Christmas.

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Lucy and Aslan from the Chronicles of Narnia

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Lucy, a skeleton, (a skeleton!), and a pumpkin (who didn’t have his eyes open in a SINGLE PICTURE).

Evelyn has vowed that next year she will be something that nobody has to ask about. It’s a shame that she ended up not loving her completely homemade, completely amazing Lucy costume. I loved it so much, but it’s just hard to compete with the awesome store-bought costumes these days, and 2nd graders are apparently not into the literary costumes.

And if one more person asks her if she’s Belle, she’s going to put an arrow between their eyes.

AND NOT USE THE HEALING POTION.

Quote Monday is pretty hardcore

Evelyn: “If I ever get a permanent tattoo, I’m going to get it on my face.”

Ollie, voice quivering and blinking rapidly: “I’m not crying. This movie is just making my voice sound funny.”

Ollie: “That wasn’t scary! It wasn’t scary to me. It just made my tummy feel funny.”

Evie: “I’ve done this before, so if you have any questions, you can ask me. I’m a pro at this.”
Ollie: “Why do they call hair “hair”?”

She said, “any question”.

Important Conversation Involving Patient 0

What? I was just offering to pick up dinner.

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