MOM: I’m going to tell you something, and then you say ‘that’s bad.’ Then I’ll tell you something else, and you say ‘that’s good.’ And back and forth.
ME: Mom, you’ve done this one before.
MOM: Oh. (Looks crushingly disappointed)
ME: (Sigh.) Let’s do it again.
MOM: Okay! A Man fell out of an airplane.
ME: That’s bad.
MOM: No, that’s good.
ME: Why’s that good?
MOM: Because he had a parachute.
ME: Oh, that’s good.
MOM: No, that’s bad.
ME: Why’s that Bad?
MOM: Because his parachute didn’t open.
ME: That’s bad.
MOM: No, that’s good.
ME: Why’s that good?
MOM: Because There was a field with a big haystack for him to land in.
ME: Oh, that’s good.
MOM: No, that’s bad.
ME: Why’s that Bad?
MOM: Because there was a pitchfork in the haystack.
ME: That’s bad.
MOM: No, that’s good.
ME: Why’s that good?
MOM: Because he missed the pitchfork.
ME: Oh, that’s good.
MOM: No, that’s bad.
ME: Why’s that bad?
MOM: Because he missed the haystack too.
ME: Oh, that’s bad.
MOM: I can’t remember what comes next.
Still, she’s happy. I felt I had to do my part too, so I reached back to my childhood and said,
ME: What’s grosser than gross?
MOM: What?
ME A pile of dead babies.
MOM: Ugh!
ME: What’s grosser than that?
MOM: (Tentatively) What?
ME: A live one at the bottom.
MOM: (Says nothing, but throws a wash rag at my head)
ME: What’s grosser than that?
MOM: I don’t even want to know
ME (not perturbed in the least) It’s eating it’s way to the top.
MOM: Hyperion!
ME: What’s grosser than that?
MOM: (Cringing) What?
ME: It’s going back for seconds.
Remember folks, it’s not so much quantity time that counts, it’s quality time!
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