This morning as I was brushing my teeth, my trusty sidekick instantly appeared as she often does — by my side. (Yeah, that’s why I call her my sidekick.)
She’s only six years old, but with her keen observation skills, she’s always ready to fire off a stinging quip or two. Most of the time, she doesn’t even realize she’s making a joke. She’s just telling the unvarnished truth as she sees it.
“Mom?” she asked.
“When you were born…..”
“Yes?” I put down my toothbrush, stooped to her level, and looked into her big brown eyes.
“Um…when you were born….did you have a football face? Cuz your face kinda looks like a football,” she shrugged and then skipped away.
I looked back at my reflection in the mirror.
You know what? She’s right. I do have a football for a face.
Yes, Little Miss J is wise beyond her years. She often cuts straight to the heart of the matter and forces me to question why we do things in life.
Last night, we had the same argument we always do, about how she needs to pick up her toys. I scanned the living room, sighing at the Polly Pocket carnage. I explained to her for the millionth time that she needs to be responsible for her own toys and put them away.
“But I hate to pick stuff up,” she protested. “I just hate it!”
“Yeah, well, did ya ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe Mommy doesn’t want to pick up your stuff, either? Hmm?”
I saw a light go off in her brain. Her eyes widened. She was getting it. She was finally putting herself in my shoes! Crossing that bridge between a mother and her daughter! Realizing all the hard work I put into being a mom and taking care of the house!
“Hey! I know!” she yelled. “How about this? How ’bout both of us don’t pick them up? Yeah! Then we’re both happy!”
She’s a genius.
She also has a knack for saying things in a slightly snooty yet deadpan way that cracks me up. It’s like she’s Queen Elizabeth trapped in a 6 year old body.
Yesterday, after her older brother ran over to her, stuck his butt in her face and let out a loud and long fart, she wrinkled her nose, slowly turned to look at me, and said,
“I am not happy.”
Last week, while we were discussing with my in-laws what fast food joint they would take the kids to lunch, she put up her hand dismissively, shushed us, and said in a heavy somber tone,
“I don’t like Wendy’s.”
You can almost see it behind her soft hazel eyes how much she thinks the world around her is filled with nothing but bumbling idiots.
Football-faced flatulent idiots that like to eat at Wendy’s.
As much as I admire her candor, brevity and wit, there is one person I do worry about –her future spouse.
Let’s hope he doesn’t have a football for a face.
What zingers have your kids said lately? Maybe I can use some of them for future witty comebacks.
Like this? You’re in luck. I have another child.
Read about him here—My Son — aka The Human Garbage Disposal.
129 thoughts on “My Daughter — aka The Queen of Quips”
I would have to disagree about the whole “football face” thing. That’s more like Stewie from The Family Guy. You might want to show your daughter for comparison.
…or Arnold from “Hey Arnold!”
As much as I do love Stewie, I think she was talking more about how my face resembles leather than the shape. (who am I kidding, my face is also shaped like a football)
I love the queenly snootiness. My daughter had that same air.
When she was about four years old, she was standing near the swimming pool where her father and (adult) uncles were playing volleyball. Someone spiked the ball and splashed her new sundress. She put her hands on her hips and said, “Well. You boys have just ruined my day.” It’s still one of our favorite family stories. We’re easily amused.
That would be something my daughter would say for sure. She kills me because she’s always so serious when she says these things. When I see her put her hands on her hips I know I am in for a full-on verbal smackdown.
She’s adorable. But I can’t quite decode what kind of a face She has. Probably a balloon face because she manages to scrunch it into all sorts of shapes!
She does have a balloon face! Like daughter, like mother.
That didn’t come out the way I meant it at all! I meant partly that her face looks tied at her chin in that picture. But also that in others she puts it in so many different shapes that she’s like one of those long twist able balloons that you make into dogs and giraffes or in my case, pop them.
Did I worm my way out of this faux pas?
There was no faux pas! I totally got what you were saying. My face is the same, very expressive when it wants to be. Miss J really is a ham, I foresee a future as an actress or a stand-up.
By the way, I still use her logic about picking up my dirty clothes and dishes. I hope she’s able to grow out of it.
I think her logic about housekeeping is very wise. If I stopped picking up stuff, think of the extra time in the day I’d have to do more productive things like blogging.
Like Mother, like daughter. I can’t wait until she’s writing her own blog.
She sure is a chip off the ol’ football-face.
Ditto what the person above said.
I’d love for her to meet this friend from my childhood (preferably while time travelling back to when he was the same age as her) http://acollectionofmusings.wordpress.com/2013/05/28/has-childhood-fun-been-tossed-out-the-window/
Love it. Throwing stuff out the window? That was my brothers’ main source of entertainment in the 1970s! They might have even tossed out torn underwear at one point.
Girls are fun.
You sound like you have quite the misses on your hands. 🙂
I truly do feel for her future spouse.
very funny. i’ve got some scarily astute observers of the human condition as well over here. my kids also don’t get why they need to put away their stuff, or why I would. i don’t want to see their first apartment. 😉
I think my son’s future is even scarier. I can picture him in his first apartment, asking his roomie to make him toast or pour him some cereal.
unless my son is his roomie, then they’ll both just sit at the table waiting… waiting… waiting…
haha! I can totally picture that.
“Um…you pour the cereal….”
“No you do it….”
“But I don’t know how!”
I hated those damn Polly Pockets. Thank God both daughters are through that phase. It’s so bloody difficult to manipulate the clothes off. They remind me of my dating years.
Come to think of it, it’s not too far removed from my married years, either.
Ha! Yes, thankfully, my daughter is starting to move on from Polly Pocket to My Little Pony. No teeny tiny plastic clothes required. Although last week she decided to cut off all their manes and I looked into the bathroom sink to find a horrible scene of rainbow sparkle hairs all over the place.
My daughter took a pair of scissors to OUR CURTAINS. Aren’t they adorable? We should get them into some kind of support group.
Good God, kids are such a hoot! SInce I have no kids, I can only share something my nephew said around the age of two. My sister thought she had him potty trained, when one afternoon, much to her dismay, she smelled otherwise. Nifty nose.
“Johnny, why did you poop in your big boy underwear?” she asked.
Putting his hands on his hips, my nephew quips–“It’s easier.”
Pure poopy honesty! Shitty kids!
Hugs from Ecuador,
Shitty kids–haha! That pretty much sums them up.
And you know what? Johnny is right, it is easier. No argument there.
Radley’s brutal honesty is scary sometimes. And he thinks his toys belong on the floor. That’s his definition of them being put away.
My kids will put their toys away after I threaten to put them in a garbage bag. Unfortunately, their idea of putting them away involves scooping them up, then tossing them into another heap in their closet. Sure, that’s exactly how I do my own housework but do they have to insist on following my example?
Love it! Kids never cease to amaze as they get older and their personalities develop more into their own unique personalities! ❤ Jesika jesikarae.wordpress.com
I don’t think there is another person alive on this planet that comes close to my daughter’s bubbly personality. She’s unique.
That is the BEST line I’ve heard after someone passes gas in your face–“I’m not happy.” Just cut and dry. Would it be okay if I borrowed it in my home? There are a few offenders I’d like to relay this to.
It was one of those “had to be there” moments. The way she said it, perfect deadpan. I have no clue where she gets this from. After she said it, I cracked up so hard I was crying from laughter. Other kids would have probably slugged their brother or yelled “EWWW!!”
I have to say, with your MAD photo-shopping skills, I’m kind of disappointed that you didn’t actually photoshop an image of a football over your face, then put your eyes, nose and mouth back onto it. That would have been pretty cool. In any case, you’re kid is pretty funny. Must get it from her mom. Oh… and BTW, if you figure out the key to the “picking stuff up” thing, let me know, mine still haven’t figured that out. It’s just evolved from Polly Pockets to clothes, jewelry, sports equipment, etc, etc, etc.
Y’know, I was VERY close to doing a photoshop image of me with a football face! I just didn’t have the time. But then, my face really does already look like a football, no enhancement needed.
I am very saddened to hear that teens still don’t learn how to pick things up. Is there anything good about the teen years, Steve? I’m getting scared.
You know what the best thing about teenagers is? They start to become like little adults. Well maybe not so little really, but it’s pretty neat to watch. And you can talk to them about adult things and they’re interesting and they become more like an “adult friend” that you can hang around with and less like a playmate that you have to constantly entertain and have tea parties with. That’s what I like the most!
Thank GOD there’s a silver lining there! there’s hope!
Love QoQ! Awesome Dar! Don’t worry, she’ll fall in love with a man who has a face shaped just like dear ole dad! 🙂
ha! No doubt, Renee.
This. This is why I’m excited for children.
The only reason I had kids was for the quips. Makes good blog fodder too.
Seems like the best reason to me.
This made me laugh. You’re lucky your daughter has personality…mine’s like me…shy and quiet.
I am amazed at how different she is from me. She’s very social and bubbly while I’m pretty shy in real life. Although I do let zingers fly now and again.
I love that picture of her in the goggles – can just here her saying, like the Queen, “we are not amused.”
And she’s never amused! I am constantly amused by her non-amusement.
I was staying with my grandparents’ for a couple days several years back, and on one of those days my grandma was looking after my cousin Joey who couldn’t have been more than 3 at the time. He was really into trucks and things so Grandma had him propped by the window so he could watch the garbage truck come by. This is (part of) the conversation that took place while they waited:
G: Hey Joey, how many grandmas do you have?
G: Wow! What are you going to do with all those grandmas?
J: Throw them in the garbage truck!.
haha! Oh my god how I love that. Brutal honesty. Kids are pretty awesome.
The only reason I got my kids to pick up their own stuff was because they learned (the hard way) that if mom picked up their stuff, it disappeared for good (or about a week if they could make a good case as to why they should ever see it again…)
I do that tactic too. “hey, kids! I know! How about Mom picks this stuff up and THEN stores it away for awhile?”
I love it. Your daughter sounds like she and mine would be fast friends. One of my favorites from Anna happened when she was four. She looked in the mirror at what she was wearing and let out a this-won’t-do-at-all sigh. “I look like a commoner.” Thanks Disney princess movies…
My daughter does that stuff too! I swear she’s even used the word commoner before. She’ll even do a curtsy and say thank you when I hand her her pancakes in the morning. I totally blame Sofia the First.
I think I may have shared this before but it is worth sharing again as I am still shaken by it. My 9 year old son came home from school one day and announced that “Ian’s grandma is the same age as you” to which I responded “well, then Ian’s grandma got married too young!” Quite a comeback eh. Hey at 47 I was taking no prisoners.
Oh my. I am waiting for the day when my kids say this to me. As it is, my daughter never fails to point out how many “lines” I have on my forehead.
I embrace my lines and call them my thinking lines and believe they make me look more intelligent (I live in denial a lot–you are invited to come visit)
Definitely! I’m already there with you. My crow’s feet are just a sign that I laugh a lot. Nothing wrong with that.
When I look into the mirror, I don’t put on my glasses. Really helps smooth out all those pesky wrinkles.
if I do not put on my glasses I look about twenty again–it is obvious I am almost blind without mine!
Isn’t it great? See, other people might be bothered by their eyesight going downhill, but I like to see the upside (and not see my actual face)
me too! it is liberating!
Y’know, it really is! Most of my previous life I cared what I looked like. Now it’s more of a ‘meh’, whatever. I don’t have the time to bother with that stuff anymore. Feels good.
you have too many things on the go and you are naturally pretty anyway so you do not have to worry (I have seen your videos)
You are way way too kind, my friend. I’m natural, that’s for sure. I rarely wear makeup now. Bah, why bother?
She is sooooo totally adorable!!! Precious! Speaking from experience of a mother of a once adorable little girl, enjoy it now because it’s cute now. Not so much when they are 17. Ay!
This is what I hear and I am very very scared. Someone once told me “take your daughter’s personality at six, then multiply it by 100 to get her personality when she’s 16.”
Me thinks the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Love the comment about her toys on the floor.
She’s going to have a bright future, your daughter…
Option # 1: Host of The Tonight Show.
Option # 2: Wife of the new Prince George.
I love both options. I’m certain she could do a better job than Jay Leno.
Her tactic for getting you to help her pick up her toys is what I’m going to use on my boss the next time she assigns me something.
Her: “I’ve got a lot of stuff on my plate right now. Could you handle this report for me?”
Me: “How about we both do it? It’ll be a bonding experience.”
Exactly, my daughter’s idea could be used for so many things in life. “Hey, honey, can you mow the lawn?” “Hey, how about NEITHER of us mow the lawn, then we’re both happy!”
She’s brilliant! I love her logic about nobody picking up. And she’s cute as a button- a cute button.
As for cunning zingers and comeback, what usually comes out of my kid’s mouth, is stuff that either has me laughing out loud because he’s tired and the words got all screwed up on the way out. Or he can’t think of the right word, so he just throws something else out there. And once in a long while, he’ll say something that is so wise I just look at him and stare in wonder… wondering who this kid is.
Oh. Here’s something that happened a few days ago. He was playing with a buddy who had just gotten home from a sleep away camp. I’m fairly sure it was a Christian camp, because said Buddy wanted to share his faith with my kid. He wanted my son to know what he believes in. When asked if my son wanted to hear about it, my son had one word- “No!” Little Man then told this poor kid that our planet began as a rock, and aliens brought plants and animals here, and eventually brought people here. And when some people didn’t survive, they brought other types of people here. The poor Buddy just stared with his jaw open. Little Man then said, “Oh, you wanted to tell me the Bible version?” (I’ve been reading a lot of Dolores Cannon and sharing it with Little Man. Didn’t think he was even listening to me- lol!!
I love your little man! “Oh, you wanted the Bible version?” haha!!
There is nothing more enlightening than listening to your kids talk about life, death or religion. They cut it right down to the quick, don’t they? They usually have it all figured out and us adults need to be taught.
Ha! She’s awesome!
And you got me traipsing down memory lane to my own too wise offspring.
I remember my youngest, when he was about 8, watching me put on makeup one morning before work. “Is that stuff supposed to do something? Cuz you don’t actually look any prettier….”
Ooh! Ouch! I’m certain my son has said something similar to me before. Probably worse. Having kids means getting the stark truth at all times. It’s very humbling.
Well . . . I don’t have my own kids (my step-daughter of a year and a half is 18 and we never see her), but I work with them. Last week we were running a camp-like thing in our church and this little girl goes, “Miss Jenn? Are you pregnant?”
Note: I have never been pregnant.
Then her brother says, “Have you ever been pregnant?” (no) “You’ve never had a son?” (no–or a daughter either) He pauses, and then, “But you know how to GET one, right?”
oh my!! Yep, kids are awesome. They have this knack for being a total wise-ass without realizing it. You really need to have a thick skin to survive around them.
It’s really true. Fortunately I just thought it was funny. The teenage volunteer assistants were scandalised on my behalf, though.
Their innocent retorts either leave us gasping in astonishment … or holding back the laughter until they leave the room. Funny, Darla.
When she told me she “was not happy” about her brother’s fart, I couldn’t help it but laugh hysterically. She really showed some considerable restraint there. My brothers used to do that to me and I’d start screaming and crying.
OMG. That’s hilarious. Sounds like my 4 yo niece. My dad was horsing around with her and caused her fall over. She went running to my mom and told her “Grandpa caused me to fall by accident. It was HIS accident.” LOL.
Kids are great at placing blame where it belongs, they never sugar-coat things.
I think my kiddo’s still too young for the zingers. Mostly he just tells me, “You’re going to jail, Mommy!” whenever I say something that displeases him. 🙂
Oh no, that is the PERFECT zinger, Deb. I absolutely love that. Just you wait, he’ll be well on his way to wise-ass remarks in no time.
My daughter is already developing a bitterness I could only dream of. Make a father bitterly proud.
Oh I am so happy to hear that, Ben! Maybe one day she can take over your blog. See, this is why we have kids.
That is the plan. Maybe your kid could read it? She needs some fan support.
Aww…I don’t think you have a football face. I’m sorry she said that about you. It sounds like the Fates have blessed you with a little Poetic Justice. A mini wise ass version of you. Enjoy! 🙂
My own mother always told me, “Just you wait until you have a daughter like you”. And now I’m telling my daughter the same thing. Gotta keep passing down our wise-ass genes.
They are excellent genes… 🙂
It must be SO gratifying to have a mini-me!
Why does everyone keep saying that? She’s nothing like me. (I almost typed that out with a straight face)
I am crying! There is nothing funnier than the deadpan zingers…omg they are hilarious. Sounds like you have a mini me on your hands…it’s such a joy! We had a 4 year old visitor on Sunday. She was wearing a little pink dress with maryjanes and holding a stuffed Hello Kitty when she firmly announced as she entered: “I will not be talking when I’m here because I feel shy today” … let’s just say she stood by her word.
See, that’s just it–it’s the way they deliver these lines! The deadpan delivery. My daughter completely kills me on a daily basis with her somber observations about life. I was crying too when she said “I am not happy.” I mean, she NAILED that line.
She likes to announce to everyone how she’s feeling about situations all the time. Like she’s in charge and if something’s not right, she wants to let you know it.
Cool stories haha. It reminds me of my short nanny-ing stint for 3 Ozzie kids (7-9-11). Neither of us wasn’t into picking stuff up and putting it away properly either, so ‘we’ decided I would just chuck the stuff that bothered me into a big basket every night. They could take it out whenever they wanted until Sunday night, when I was to throw the contents of the basket in the garbage. They thought that was an excellent plan until after the first Sunday night, when they left their gameboy in the basket. I hid the contents from them and told them I had thrown it all away as per our agreement. Their mom thought it was a hoot and she wrapped all the stuff I gathered up as Xmas presents that next December. The grown-ups laughed at their surprised faces, and the kids actually started to clear stuff away that they wanted to hold on to. Win-win :-).
Whoa, that is a GREAT idea. Yes, put toys away and then wrap them up for Christmas. Genius!
haha, and great for the budget 🙂
The closest one I can think of right now was when my daughter was about 6, there was a commercial on TV for some anti-ageing face cream, and when it had finished my daughter said, “You could do with some of that Mum”. It was the innocence with which she said it that was funny, she genuinely thought she was making a helpful suggestion! Another one that I heard somewhere or other a while back, can’t remember where, was a little girl said to her pregnant mother “Why are you getting so fat?” and the mother reminded her that it was because she had a baby growing in her tummy, and the girl replied, “I know that, but what’s growing in your butt?”
haha! And you know what’s really sad? My daughter has asked me once if there was a little baby brother or sister in my belly and I am not pregnant nor will I ever be pregnant ever again.
Loved your daughter’s rejoinders. She got her caustic wit from her lovely mother.
Ooh! So true. I’ll be sure to let her know this later on when she’s a teen and trying to sass me, I’ll just come back at her with my own brand of sass.
I have only on word for both of you, “Wow!”
This is what excites me most about becoming a mom someday soon — writing about the funny, clever stuff my kids say — and maybe all of that love and joy stuff too.
…Your daughter is ridiculously adorable by the way. Football-head-free.
Do you read Kelly Oxford at all? Her tweets about her children are amazing and her book ‘Everything is Perfect When You’re a Liar’ is even funnier.
No, but I will definitely have to look her up online now. thanks!
Aw, thanks. Yeah, she’s a keeper. She inherited her father’s face, thankfully no football-ish qualities at all.
I’m with your girl on Wendy’s. And the farting brother – I spent a great deal of my childhood resigned to the “I’m not happy” phrase.
I know. I really REALLY “don’t like Wendy’s”. Blech. Double phooey.
The way she said “I’m not happy” was so deadpan and her timing was perfect. She might be a comedian someday.
Darla — how you come up with these lines is beyond me, “Football-faced flatulent idiots that like to eat at Wendy’s.” 🙂 Sounds like a white-trash version of the Dursleys (Harry Potter).
haha! And that was EXACTLY what I was going for, Melissa! (that was my fave line, too)
I don’t know Darla, I can’t get to the football face. But your daughter, she is absolutely yours! I can see it now, a few years in the future a mother / daughter writing team.
Oh, god! That would be a dream come true for me. She could be a standup and I could write her jokes for her. Actually, she won’t even need me, she writes her own jokes just fine.
Smart and cute. Dangerous combination.
I don’t see that you face is either football-shaped or leathery. Do you have stitches, maybe?
Upon careful inspection, I came to the conclusion that my face is indeed, football shaped. The leathery part will come in a few years.
With that football face crack, I would have sent her off to military school immediately. Of course, they’d probably send her back for insubordination. But she is pretty damned funny. It’s all in the timing and delivery, too. She obviously knows this. It reminds me of the time I was on the subway and I was watching a kid and his mom, the kid was probably about 4 or 5, and as the mom handed the boy his toy, she accidentally dropped it. He rolled his eyes and said, “Oh for crying out loud.”
ha, love that story!
It is ALL about the timing. All great humor is. My daughter has got it down pat.
She needs to start a blog. What a little sasspot!
It is my fondest wish in life to hand over the reins of She’s a Maineiac to my daughter.
I’ll never experience Polly Pocket carnage. I’m missing out aren’t I?
Oh god, it is just absolute and sheer horror, Joe. Save me.
Are you paying her any of your WP royalties yet? That photo with the swim goggles. Gets me every time! There should be a photo caption contest on that one…
The stuff my 6..er, uh 7-year-old says. I really need to start writing them down. I forget them almost immediately now that I’m middle-aged (and have too many other things swimming in my noggin).
That photo of her was taken about three years ago (the one with the goggles). I think it’s my fave photo because it really captures her personality.
Are you enjoying the summah, Shan?? We have ONE WEEK left until school starts. One. Week.
Miss J!!!! Dang. I was hoping I could take her to Wendy’s one of these days. Although I’m kind of afraid to find out what sporting equipment my face resembles. I’m thinking dodge ball, especially after I’ve had my morning trough of vodka.
I suppose she could have said my face resembles a soccer ball, what with all the zigzag creases and wrinkles….Maybe football is a compliment?
Let’s both not pick them up! Hell yeah, I like her style. Though I have to point out that Polly Pockets is why God gave us vacuums.
Hell yeah to vac’ing up Polly!! I take sweet delight in the way her little tiny shoes are crunched up and eaten by my vacuum.
I wish I had a blog when Alex was growing up. Too many precious and funny moments lost to my failed memory that would have been memorialized like you’re doing here… Oh well….
Yes, one day when my daughter’s a teen, she will stumble upon this blog and be completely and utterly horrified. I cannot wait. I’ll use it a blackmail.
And when she’s a bit older (maybe with children of her own), she’ll treasure them–as will you.
When I was dumb enough to ask my 6 year old if I looked fat he looked at me carefully and said in all seriousness, “Well you do look kinda fat right here.” He was pointing to my stomach. Stupid me for asking a question I did not want the answer to.
My six year olds’ second grade class is beginning to learn the two times table as directed by the teacher. After several days of being quizzed at home, she declared one day after school that those times tables were really going to come in handy. “Why?” I asked. “Because there’s going to be a test” she replied.