An Interview with the Vampires*

I got this from Rational Jenn. It's an interview to do with your children. I asked my 7 yr-old for his answers first, and then went through them with my 12-yr old daughter. I had her look away from the computer screen so she wouldn't see his answers.

What is something dad always says to you?

Him: "Do your work"

Her: Phrases in French.

(Hey, I gotta use it or lose it.)

What makes dad happy?

Him: The computer.

Her: Quiet kids, a full stomach, and a good nap.

What makes dad sad?

Him: Je ne sais pas.

(That's one of those French phrases they hear a lot. He's made it his own.)

Her: A hungry stomach, tired eyes, and noisy kids.

How does your dad make you laugh?

Him: Real funny jokes.

Her: Stories of his childhood, and some of his jokes.

(Emphasis hers. She doesn't appreciate my sense of humor as much as he does.)

What was your dad like as a child?

Him: Kind of mischievous.

Her: A good kid on the whole, but sometimes very difficult.

(Obviously, I'm telling them the wrong childhood stories.)

How old is your dad?

Him: Ummmm… I think he is in his 40s.

Her: 40-something.

(Close enough!)

How tall is your dad?

Him: A little smaller than a door.

Her: Between four and five feet—more likely closer to five feet.

(I'm a good bit shorter than a door, but I'm not that damned short. To be precise, I'm 5'-6.5".) ;)

What is his favorite thing to do?

Him: (Exasperatedly.) Play on the computer! (Parenthetically.) And read books.

Her: Play on the computer.
Did you peek at his answer? No, I just searched among your habits, and the first thing that came up was computer.

(Well, there you go.)

What does your dad do when you're not around?

Him: (Asks for clarification. Asks what ‘clarification' means.) Hang out with mom.

Her: I don’t know, we’re never around.

If your dad becomes famous, what will it be for?

Him: Je ne sais pas.

Her: For protecting his family against danger.

(I can see the headline: Man Shoots Intruder to Protect Family. Rather amusing, since I've tried to keep the presence of a gun here on the down low.)

What is your dad really good at?

Him: Reading.

Her: Playing D&D.

(Yeah... I'm just bursting with talent.)

What is your dad not very good at?

Him: Fixing different sort of stuff, I guess.
Like? The kitchen light.

Her: Doing a handstand.

(Yeah, I like her answer better.)

What does your dad do for his job?

Him: Teaches school at the house.

Her: He takes care of us kids while Mom’s at work.

What is your dad's favorite food?

Him: Stuff with low calories and salads.

(Sigh. No, not really.)

Her: I don’t know. What is your favorite food? Grandma’s food?

What makes you proud of your dad?

Him: He’s there when I always need help.

Her: He’s a Mr-Fix-It that we don’t have to pay.

(Thank you, baby.)

Him: Except the kitchen light.

(Grrr!)

If your dad were a cartoon character, who would he be?

Him: (Lots of discussion trying to sort this question. We don’t have satellite, so he doesn’t watch lots of cartoons.) Buzz.

Her: Bugs Bunny.

(Eh, what's up, Doc?)

What do you and your dad do together?

Him: Sometimes target practice, which I’d like to do today. I’m getting rusty on it.

Her: We play board games, and we have heart-to-heart conversations.

How are you and your dad the same?

Him: We’re both boys.

Her: We both have brown eyes and hot tempers.

How are you and your dad different?

Him: Well, there’s our hair, names, and uh, ages.

Her: He’s a grown man with a beard, and I’m a young twelve-year-old girl. And I’m not so into history as he is.

(They're very literal-minded.)

How do you know your dad loves you?

Him: Because he’s my dad!

(Duh! Don't all dad's love their children??)

Her: I know from his want to take care of me; the way he takes me to places that I like to go; and the way he gives me hugs and kisses when I need them, or want them.

What does your dad like most about your mom?

Him: They’re a couple.

Her: I think you like her just for being who she is.

Where is your dad's favorite place to go?

Him: Grandma and Grandpa’s.

Her: The library, the bookstore, and houses of friends and relatives.


*It's a joke!


Not really. :(


Yes, it is. :)


Maybe. ;)

Conversation with a 10 yr old (with an interjection from the 5 yr old), 4

On the way home from a Christmas Eve visit...

Her: (A cry of consternation from the back of the van, some noises of exasperation, and then the exclammation...) Everytime I'm feeling happy, fate plays me a dirty trick!!

Mom and Dad: (Suppressed laughter.) What's the matter?

Her: I've dropped a puzzle piece from my activity book. It's in between the seat and the side of the van, and I can't get to it with my hand.

Dad: Is that puzzle piece essential for your happiness right now? It can't wait until we get home?

Her: No, I want it now.

Dad: Mom, you have to pull this van over. It's Christmas Eve, and my little girl is unhappy. This can't be.

(Mom finds a gas station and pulls in. Dad hops out, pops open the back of the van, and retrieves the puzzle piece, trading it for a kiss from his daughter.)

Dad: (Getting back into van...) Is your fate all better now?

Her: Yeah.

Mom: Except it wasn't fate, it was Dad.

Dad: That just goes to show that you can make your own fate.

Him: I'm going to make mine into a fireplace!!

Mom and Dad: Ooookay...

Conversation with a 10 yr old (and a 5 yr old interloper), 3

Took my daughter to the eye doctor today. My son was along for the ride, as usual. After 15 minutes waiting in the lobby, and a 30 minute exam by the nurse practioner, we were told the doctor would be in to see us in a few minutes. Ten minutes later, the natives were restless and not behaving very well. My daughter makes up a song using the doctor's name:

Dr. Beggs, we beg you,
Please hurry up.

Just those two lines repeated over and over. Their attempts to entertain themselves were wearing on my nerves, but when I called a halt to it, I elicited the well known child's lament:

Her: I want the doctor to come now! There's nothing to do!

Me: Hey, I know! Why don't you fuss and complain a bunch, and entertain yourself by bugging the heck out of me? Oh wait... you're already doing that!

Him: Heeheeheehee! Wheeeeeeeeee!

Conversations with a 10 yr old, 2

Her: Can I tell you about the book I've been reading, Esemeralda and the Enchanted Pond?

Me: (Debating whether I want to be the audience for an hour-long monologue.) Umm...

Her: I'll sum it up...

Me: Didn't you tell me about that one yesterday?

Her: I wanted to add more detail.

Me: That wouldn't be summing up, then, would it?

Her: Please...

Me: (Inwardly sighing.) Okay.

Conversations With a 5 Year Old, 2

Him: (A sudden question inserted into the middle of a long, wearying, stream of consciousness monologue concerning aliens, or transporters, or some such.) Do you want to know something?

Me: Not really. I prefer not knowing anything. Ignorance is bliss they say.

Him: (Continues dissertation as if I hadn't said a word.)


Update: Continuing on, two hours later, we have turned to the subject of bacteria and viruses, which he proceeds to tie back into the alien discussion via War of the Worlds (the old version).

Him: Why did God cause the Martians to die?

Me: God? There's no such person.

Him: You just can't see him.

Me: (Laughing too hard to explain to him what's wrong with that argument.)

Conversations with a 5 yr old... (Updated)

Him: (Referring to the blanket he named Fuzz when he was two.) Dad, how do I know this blanket is really Fuzz?

Me: (Trying to get ready to leave the house.) That's either a totally inane question, or it's so philosophically profound that I don't have time to answer it right now.

Update: Conversations with the 10 yr old go more like this:

(After a brief discussion in which I informed her that getting two out of ten questions correct on her history quiz meant that she was going to have to reread the chapter, find the correct answers to the ones she missed, and write down the page numbers where she found them...)

Her: Why are you being so horrible to me?

Me: I'm not being horrible, I'm being strict.

Her: You ARE being horrible!

Me: I'm not, I'm being strict.

Her: You ARE!

Me: Baby...

Her: Don't call me BABY!! Cause I'm NOT your BABY!!!!

Update 2: This just in... I've been handed a note explaining her position.

It's like you're feeding me sour cream cheese.* And acting like a brat.** I try to get done. I try to read the chapter, and I do the test, but am I free?

->NO!!<-

Just another day at the office...

----
*Yeah, I have no clue what that's about.

**That she thought to scratch that part out shows real progress. She doesn't usually edit those thoughts.

An Imaginary Conversation with God...

I got into a discussion on the existence of God over at Protein Wisdom. Jeff started it, sort of. He was responding to something I had said in another thread dismissing agnosticism in favor of atheism. After starting the thread, though, he disappeared and the discussion devolved into atheism vs. theism. That's nearly always a waste of time, but once I was involved in the discussion, it was difficult to resist going back. I finally got a visit from the Guy Upstairs, who convinced me to stop banging my head against a wall:

Me: (Typing.)

God: (Pops in and begins reading over my shoulder.)

God: Do you really think you're going to convince anyone?

Me: It could happen.

God: Has it ever worked before?

Me: There was that one guy…

God:

Me: (Typing.)

God: Wasn't he gay?

Me: Well, yeah, as it turned out, he was, but what does that--

God: Leviticus.

Me: What do you mean?

God: The whole stoning thing.

Me: Wouldn't that just make him alter his behavior?

God: You might think so, but it doesn't work that way. People find the morality that works for them, and then they look for a justification. That's where I come in--or not.

Me: So you're saying that the people who believe in you only do so because you give them a reason to live the way they think is right?

God: Sure. Well, that and because they're afraid of dying. Believing they're going to be with me afterwards means they don't have to worry about that. They sleep better.

Me: So, what? Are you saying I'm a bad person because I'm trying to get them to face reality?

God: No, I'm saying that you're pissing into the wind.

Me: Oh.

Me: You know, it's not like you're doing them any favors. I mean, the first half of the Bible is devoted to the violent history of a bunch of religious fanatics, and the second half is devoted to the sad history of a guy whose example teaches people that dying for the sins of others is the most noble thing they can do.

God: What, you don't think I wrote that, do you? The slaughters, the stonings, letting my kid get nailed to a cross...?

Me: That's not yours? Which book did you write then?

God: I wrote a book of poetry once, but I couldn't get anyone to publish it.

Me: Oh.

God: You want to hear some of it?

Me: Umm, well… I was going to finish typing this post.

God: Not giving up yet?

Me: No. There was that one guy…

God: Yeah…

Me: (Typing.)

God: Didn't he become a radical subjectivist?

Me: *Sigh* (*right click *select all *delete)

God: Want to go get a beer?

Me: Sure.

God: Cool.

Me: Hey, did you use the word "pissing"?

God: I invented pissing. Get over it.