Many funny sentences escape the mouths of the members of my household, especially since one child often peppers her speech with German and the other is learning to speak for the first time ever. Some of my favorite sentences spoken by my toddler lately are:
You look soooooo pretty today, little one!
I’ll be grown up in two five minutes.
But my favorite sentence of the week is this:
I think I liked that experience better than getting stabbed in the back of the head.
My husband uttered those words the other day when speaking about his childhood. Before you think he was abused, let me tell you the story. Well, the two stories.
When my husband was little, his brother Dave received a pocket knife for a present. One day, Ryan was sitting in a big cardboard box. Dave thought it would be fun to use the box to test the stabbing powers of his new knife. He proceeded to stab the box over and over until…well, until Ryan’s head was accidentally stabbed. Gross, right? He’s ok now. No worries.
And here is the story Ryan says was better than being stabbed in the head.
When he was a teenager, Ryan’s youth group was having a party with a pinata. My husband’s brother was up to bat (with a METAL bat) and knocked the pinata down on his first try. My husband, ever eager, dove for the candy while his blindfolded brother thought it wise to beat the downed pinata as hard as he could. Since he couldn’t see (or maybe he could?), he beat the head of my husband instead. My husband received a concussion and a mushy head for days.
Such choices for a “Would You Rather…” game, right?
Somehow Ryan made it through his childhood alive, for which I am very, very thankful. I laugh hysterically when he tells these stories (he’s a very good storyteller. I’m not a psychopath.), but I find it both funny and very, very sad that he ever uttered those words:
I think I liked that experience better than getting stabbed in the back of the head.
It also terrifies me that I am raising his offspring.
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