So... the other day I was doing a goofy dance while tidying the living room. Anna was not amused, but hey, I was amusing myself so having my daughter amused as well would have been the nuts on my ice cream sundae. But whatever.
Amusing myself, yet again, I say to my precious, precocious 7 year old (whilst shaking my money maker)," You know, I'm going to dance like this at your wedding, so ya better get used to it."
Anna replies, dryly,"I'm not getting married then."
HAH! Not to be defeated, and not having my fun ruined, I chorkle (that would be a chuckle that begins or ends with a snort), "Wha-? You no like my dancing? TOO BAD!" I shake my rump like a belly dancer on a Mardi Gras float, for you know, emphasis.
"OK, tell you what," she begins with wide eyes and a startled expression, that quickly changes to one of complete triumph, "You don't dance like that at my wedding? And I'll pay for a quarter of it." She crosses her arms and smiles smugly, "That's right, you'll only have to pay for three quarters of it."
Oh my, maybe I should get this all down in Crayola.
Nah, make that Sharpie. ;)