Witty repartee has been spewing from the mouths of my family the past couple of days. Even Caroline, at two years of age, is getting in on the act. (We train 'em up right here in the mountains.) Witness:
Wednesday, 7:30 am, at breakfast
Scott: Bye Sissy, Bye Mommy--I love you! Have a good day! (Kisses Libbey, barely hugs me.)
Me: Um, hello...where's my kiss?
Scott: Honey, your breath stinks.
Me: Yeah, but love never fails! (always good to quote the Bible!)
Scott: But the stench endures. And you're gonna put this on the blog, aren't you?
YEP!!!! Moving on...
Have any of you seen the AT&T commercial where the guy's in the pool hall bemoaning the fact that he can't get Motorhead tickets? (I'd show it on here if You Tube would let me--instead, just go to YouTube and look it up, after you read below. It's worth it. Promise.) Well, I LOVE that commercial because he uses the word "Dillweed," which I find to be a marvelous term...yes, I know...totally lame, but I make no apologies. And who knew "dillweed" could be said on network television? Anyway, the first time I saw that commercial was at my parents' house in Georgia...I gave up my big, cackling belly laugh for that one, to which my mother replied, "You've got problems." Well, clearly...where have you been all my life? Libbey obviously took note of my love for all things "dillweed," because this is what transpired last night:
Wednesday, 8:30 pm, at bedtime
General silliness ensues during our nighttime routine--lots of laughing, throwing of towels, getting the bed ready, etc. Libbey's bouncing around Caroline's room, laughing at her world of funny stuff...
Libbey: (mumbling something incoherent)
Scott: What are you saying over there, Sissy?
Libbey: Mommy likes that commercial where the guy says "Dellwood."
Me: (trying not to spazz in laughter) No, honey--it's "Dill-WEED!"
Me: "Dillweed!" Like this: "Dill," like a pickle, and "weed," like what we pulled in the yard today.
Libbey: Oh! Dill...weed...Dillweed! That's how you say it! It's funny! I like it!
Scott: Did you just instruct our 6 year old in the phonics of dillweed? Embarrassing.
Me: Yeah, I sure did. I rock. Hey, Libbey...don't be saying "dillweed." Let's keep that one in our family.
Thursday morning, 8:00 am, walking out the door
Me: Let's go, chicas!
Libbey: Let's go, chicos!
Me: Well, "chic-a" is for girls--"chic-o" means boys. So we say "chic-a!"
Libbey: OK, let's jet, Chicas!!!! Yea!
We laugh and make a big deal out of it...and then...
Caroline: (arms thrown over her head) Summer-Donna!
She is The. Coolest. It was as if she had to say, "Look, you people are way too chipper this morning, and I just woke up--cut the Spanish lesson and let's get Sister to school, shall we?"
Yep...we are funny. Not Eddie Murphy funny, mind you (does he say "Dillweed," I wonder?), but Litton Family funny, or at least that's what we think. My mother is constantly reminding me to write down the hilarity that comes from our girls' mouths. I think she's onto something.
I close with Robbie...
...who had to hear all of this last night (with the exception of the "summer-donna" exclamation this morning) before I finally said, "I might as well just put this on the blog." His reply? "You people and your technology...blogs...yeah..." Somewhere in there was a huge head shake...possibly a swig of beer...most definitely a desire to disconnect with me and play Xbox with Scotty. Well, OK!