Xavier: “When can we go camping?”
Me: “Honey, mommy was raised by New Yorkers…even if we had a motor home, we’d need Bear Grylls to survive it.”
Xavier: “I know how to make a fire.”
Me: “I know how to make a reservation at a cabin in the woods.”
Xavier: “It’s not the same.”
Me: “Yes, but my way has a toilet.”
***Later that day, discussing this issue with my friend, John…
John: “Who in the hell is going to teach those boys to build a camp fire and kill small animals?”
Me: “Wow, you just described camping AND the warning signs of a future serial killer.”
John: “I’m not a serial killer. I think you have to kill more than five to be labeled a serial killer.”
Me: “Depends…were they all hookers or drifters?”
John: “I’ve already said too much.”
Fisticuffs and Shenanigans 