Oh yeah? Anna and Emma-isms

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Like my new header? I made it yesterday, from scratch in Photoshop.... Squeeee! Can you tell I am ready for fall? Oh, back on topic. :)

Lately, Emma has taken to saying "Oh yeeeeeahhhhhh" when she puts her sunglasses on in the car, like she is feeling super fine and hecka cool. What a character. We have no idea where she got this from.

Also, when Anna feels as though we are teasing her- which lately involves us singing High School Musical 2, not so much because we are teasing... you can't help but utter and mimic the sounds you are being brainwashed with 2 times a week can you? Yes, John and I do tend to burst into song at inappropriate moments, much like a musical. ;)

Anywho, Anna has started saying to us at such times (almost always with a raised eyebrow, sometimes a crooked smile),"Don't make me..."- as in "Don't make me hurt you."

That she gets from me.

Emma has gotten a little more shy recently, and has taken to repeating this phrase when she too feels embarrassed by the actions of her parents:

Emma, I love you. :)

Don't make me.

Yesterday, Anna enjoyed a not so relaxing round of The Sims 2. The game has little rules and regulations such as only being able to place dishwashers under regular counters and not the bar height kind, or not being able to delete an object that a Sim is currently using or is about to use. Anna became quite frustrated with the counter situation, and asked me over to help. On a side note, we rarely play The Sims 2 together anymore because we usually fight about decorating the houses and what a Sim should look loike when creating a Sim.

So, yesterday I put my blog header making on pause and got up to help her. Betcha can't guess what happened next? Ah- yeeeah. Because she had a hard time trying to explain exactly what she needed and wanted, she became very frustrated. To the point of tears.

"Ya know, this is why we don't play anymore. Figure out what you want... then let me know. I'll be over here."

Anna starts doing what annoys me the most... regularly irregular and high pitched "Harrrumphing". Accompanied by arm crossing and glaring in my general direction, with the occasional eye or nose rub.

"It's not my fault you are having problems with the game, I didn't make the game and all of it's funny little rules... so don't get mad at me. It's not my fault."

1.34 seconds go by and she has this to say, "YES it IS your fault! You're the ONE who DECIDED to buy the GAME!"

I couldn't help but laugh, which didn't help the situation at all. "That's like saying that it's my fault that you are acting this way because I'm the one that made and gave birth to you."

No comment, she just gives me the raised eyebrow, through the part her in hair that hangs over her face.

She has a point.

Ack, we are so screwed. I told my sis while visiting that I believe that when the girls start puberty I'll be hiding Prozac in their mashed potatoes. Or mine.

(Or maybe in a balled up piece of cheese or bread?)

'Taters, anyone?