The kids and I just spent a couple of weeks visiting my mom in Illinois. They made great summer memories with cousins they don’t get to see often enough. One sister has three children and my other sister has two. So there were eight kids ranging in age from 3 to 13; four boys and four girls. They jumped on the trampoline, had water balloon fights, sprayed each other with the hose, fed the horses, played with the barn cats and basically ran around like feral children soaking up all the vitamin D they can before winter.
They ate too much ice cream and too much pizza from our favorite pizza place. By the time the trip was over we were all more than happy to return home to Washington, our minds full of another summer of memories with family and friends.
When I visit, my mom and I have a tradition of driving to a nearby forest preserve at dusk to look for deer. It’s relaxing and pleasant to look for deer, often there are plenty to see. But the real motivation behind it is to get my children to fall asleep with very little effort on my part.
On our way to the preserve we were admiring the sunset. I pointed out the beautiful purples, rose pinks, soft greens and deep blues sweeping across the horizon. I told my girls, Violet and Eleanor, that the sun was painting the sky.
“How does the sun paint the sky, if it doesn’t have a paintbrush,” Violet, 5, asked.
“The sun uses its light to paint the sky,” 3-year-old Eleanor explained.
My son, Dawson, 9, spent most of his time running wild outside with his cousins. He only interacted with me at meals, bedtime and when he needed something. Now that we are back home I think he’s making up for lost time and has been sticking pretty close to me with a lot to say.
While we were talking one evening I pinned my hair up in a bun.
“Wow mom,” he said. “I like your hair like that.”
“Oh, thanks buddy,” I said surprised.
“Yeah,” he said. “It looks like you’ve got a bunch of chopped up lettuce on your head. Or like you’ve got a bunch of horns up there.”
When her son, Derek, was preschool age, Melinda Joy Weer, of Poulsbo, applied a green facial mask. He asked what she had on her face.
“It’s an avocado mask to make me beautiful,” she said.
Derek looked at her intently for a moment. Then he said, “It not working.”
On the weekends Cary Rutledge, of Poulsbo, does laundry for her boys then deposits it in a big pile in their room for them to sort and put away.
She likes this system. Her son, AJ, 15, does not.
“Mom,” he said in anger. “No more sorting laundry.”
“If I’m going to be your maid, it’s going to cost you,” she said. “I charge $5 for my laundry service.”
Five dollars is big money to a kid who earns a meager chore income, she said. AJ disappeared, then returned with $5 of his chore money.
“Worth it,” he said. Then he went to sit on the couch and watch Indiana Jones with his dad.
“There may have been a lesson here,” she said. “Just not sure if it was for him or for me.”
Stephanie Springer, of Poulsbo, sat outside one evening with her daughter, Addison, 5. Addison imagined that she could see a shooting star so Stephanie told her to make a wish.
“Wish, wish, wish, wish, wish,” Addison said.
‘What did you wish for,” Stephanie asked.
“A big bottle of ketchup,” she said.
Maria Parks, of Champaign, Illinois, overheard a conversation between her daughter, Audri, 23, and her son, Charlie, 7. Audri and her daughter, Mila, 1, were visiting her mom’s house and were headed down the stairs with Charlie.
“Audri,” Charlie said. “Can I please carry Mila down the stairs?”
“No,” Audri said.
“Why not,” he asked.
“Because it’s not safe,” she said. “When I was a kid I tried to carry Noah (her brother) up the stairs and I fell and hit my head open.”
“Wait, did you die,” Charlie asked.
Audri and family members just laughed in response.
“Seriously. Did you die?” he asked straight faced.
“I guess we need to have a talk with him,” Maria said.
I would love to hear your funny kid stories, so please send them my way. Parents, teachers, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and people who love children, please send your stories and cute kid photos to quinn@ward.media. I look forward to hearing from you.
— Quinn Ward is a former journalist living in Poulsbo. She has been recording the amazing and outrageous things her kids say since they have been able to talk.
