Apples

I started writing this thing a month ago with some lame generalization about how kids behave radically differently from one minute to the next while they all pretty much look their age. But I couldn’t sustain the thought, and I’m not even sure I believe it, so I’m just going to relate a little anecdote about Ben and Sara that occurred earlier this summer.

apple corer

Ben eats an apple every night before bed. He never misses a night. Never. And who ends up cutting the apple for him? Sara. So one night, Sara told him that she was going to buy an apple corer and teach him how to use it.

Sara: Ben, I’m going to buy an apple corer so you can cut these things yourself. Do you know what that is?

Ben: What?

Sara: You know, an apple corer?

Ben: Yeah, I know an apple corer. I mean, I’m not best friends with it, but I’m “familiar” with it. [he actually did the air quotes.]

Sara: Oh, Ben. You’re such a wiseguy!

Ben: [still riffing] I also know the muffin man. Do you know the muffin man?

That’s often how conversations devolve in our household–with one person getting sillier and sillier until the other one gives up. Of course, I’m never the silly one.

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