Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Arrrgh, ye scurvy dog, yer just after me booty

So - this weekend was the 1st annual Pirate Festival and we had briefly talked about going to check it out, because, like any normal person, I love me some Pirate Fest, but we hadn't made any solid plans.

My kid walks up to me on Saturday while I'm making dinner. "Hey, Mom, Dad says we're going to go to that Pirate Festival tomorrow."

"Oh, really? Okay, cool, it opens at 11, we should probably leave a little early so we can find parking."

He ponders this for a second (as ponderously as a six year old can ponder). "Yeah, that's a good idea." Then he gallops into the computer room, which happens to be right next to the kitchen. "So, Dad," he says nonchalantly. "I heard that we're going to that Pirate Festival thing tomorrow."

My husband looks at me (since he heard the entire exchange in the kitchen not a minute before). "Where did you hear that?"

"Oh, you know... around."

In the end, though, the joke was on him, because Pirate Fest sucked - Putting up a pirate flag at the hot dog stand and making some guy walk around in an eye patch does not a Pirate Fest make.

Labels: adventures in shitty parenting