But first, we had to run to Target to buy snow pants.
"Snow is so pretty." And then, after a brief moment she sweetly adds, "It reminds me of heaven." I let that sink in until she states in a matter of fact tone,
"It NEVER snows in Texas. Not ever." Without offending those we love in Texas, I have to say this made me laugh as the implication she didn't intend to make made me think of H.E. double hockey sticks. Mrs. Arnow, as it turns out, is a Texas native. She is also the other Kindergarten teacher at Eliza's school. This week she explained to Eliza's class the differences in both topography and climate between Utah and Texas - which explains Eliza's train of thought.
Continuing on with misinterpreted communication, I offer another funny. This one comes courtesy of Henry.
At dinner last night, I begin to share with Andrew the plot of my current read. The central character, Jacob Hunt, has Asperger's Syndrome. Without wanting to over generalize on a topic I know little about, I do my best to relay what I've learned, based on the author's research. In other words, I share the traits exhibited by the fictional character. A few minutes pass and our conversation is placed on hold, as so many of them are, due to the needs of our children.
Fast forward to bed time. Andrew joins the rest of the family in Henry's bedroom. He has just collected the children's toothbrushes. Handing me Eliza's, I realize that Andrew is complaining.
"I bet it was Henry." Andrew's playing detective. "He's a crumpler." He says accusingly. That word clues me into the topic he's busy muttering over: toilet paper.
*If you can't stomach bathroom related subjects, I suggest you skip this last part (Aunt D, I'm looking at you!)*
Andrew won't deny that he feels that he is somewhat superior over the fact that he neatly folds his toilet paper. He looks down on those who crumple. What a waste. What a lack of efficiency! So he thinks.
Joining the conversation, I stick up for Henry.
"Actually babe, it was Eliza. She just used the bathroom." A look of pain crosses his face.
"Oh no. She's a crumpler too?!" What has the world come to, indeed. Locating Eliza, I reiterate for the tenth time that day,
"Eliza! You need to remember to flush the toilet."
"No," Andrew chimes in. "She needs to remember to put the toilet paper she's used IN the potty and then flush it." Surprised and disgusted, I shoot Andrew a silent look of,
"Really? So gross." Thinking back to our earlier conversation, I say on the side,
"I bet the character in my book neatly folds his toilet paper. Precision and organization can be a trait of Aspergers." Cue Henry.
"Ass Boogers? ... Eww gross!" Even though Henry doesn't not associate that word with a bum (ass is not a word used at house, ever.) we can't help but laugh (and laugh and laugh). And because Andrew can't help himself, he inappropriately ties the two conversations together.
"Ass boogers... Is that what you call the stuff that's wiped on the toiler paper?"