Kids are like Aliens... only cuter

Just so you know, so far the world's cupcakes are still safe.  After last night and our obvious security breach, I know what you're thinking, though!  You're thinking "But Queen, how can we be sure?!  What can we do?"  If that isn't what you're thinking, don't tell me.  I live in fear you're thinking something like "What would happen if I poke this stick into that hornet's nest over there."  Or "I wonder if it would look really cool on video if I rode my unicycle down my roofline then off the edge so that I can make it look like I'm flying over that small tree over there like they did in ET?"  (I swear, I do wonder who comes up with those stunts you see on late night television where you just KNOW they're going to end badly but you can't look away.  It's like the guy I saw at the grocery store one day wearing the t-shirt that said "It's only funny until someone gets hurt... then it's hilarious!")  Try not to make the Queen worry about you.  It might give me wrinkles. And no one would want that!  And by no one, I mostly mean me.  But to get back to that question that's haunting you, the answer is I remain vigilant!  I will protect the cupcake supply.  I will guard it with my life... well, most likely with the life of MPH (My Poor Husband), who quite honestly really doesn't want to deal with me if all the cupcakes are gone.  He's got it hard enough just trying to live with the embodiment of functional ADHD as it is.

But thinking about those really weird things that people do as stunts on television... that always end badly, if I didn't mention it before, I'm struck by how strange some of the things are that we hear, say and simply accept as parents.  I don't mean just the general excitement that comes when your child first announces in a loud voice in a public place that they have just completed some bodily function.  Though don't get me wrong!  I was as proud as the next toddler's mom with those announcements!  I mean, the things they say that make all sorts of sense to them but that have no rational meaning to us... or likely shouldn't have any rational meaning to us.  Yet somehow we accept them at face value, may even repeat them, and then just move on with our lives.  To some extent it's like living with Dr. Seuss!  My daughter could indeed walk up to me and inform me that there was a nerkle in the closet and more than likely I'd just nod, tell her I hoped it didn't chew on the bath towels, and then walk off humming like I might actually be a sane person!  When frankly, I doubt any of us are completely sane as parents!

I can give examples... because my friends are the same way... and they talk to me... which they probably won't for long when they realize that I may quote them.  Or maybe they will and it will elevate the level of conversation to the point that it's like speaking to Einstein every time I try to find out what's going on in general in the hopes that they'll be quoted.  Now that I think about it, I'm not sure which would be worse!  I'm willing to bet that they wouldn't be coming up with those funny Einstein quotes that I like.  I'm betting they'd start discussing the theory of relativity without getting any of the facts straight just hoping that I won't know any better and that I'll start blogging about how brilliant my friends are!  Then I'd have to go into hiding, move in with the Russian cupcake cartel because they'd be the only ones still talking to me, but then they'd be speaking in Russian and the only thing I'd be able to say back to them would be BLOG!... Maybe I should have thought about it before I started quoting people.  *big sigh* Oh well. Too late!!!

So I was having a conversation with one of my friends who really is quite brilliant the other day.  He's the father of twin daughters who are about four.  In the middle of our conversation about something else, probably how brilliant I am (I might have brought up the topic), he suddenly says:

Brilliant friend:  One sec.  Apparently there is a pickle emergency.  (And away he goes)

The Queen (who is left talking to herself): I won't even ask... but I can imagine... really vividly... and I may have to blog about it! (Okay, I think I yelled that last part)

Brilliant friend: Ok.  Apparently the cyclops didn't have enough pickles to share with the other cyclops.

Brilliant friend: Problem solved when she drew another pickle.

The Queen blinks a few times and replies:  Ummm, well.... naturally.

And that, dear readers, was indeed the end of that part of the conversation.  It's just all kind of surreal!  It's like aliens land in between you, jump out of their spaceship, start blasting "Getting' Jiggy With It" from their extra large  on-board speakers, and proceed to do a strip tease for you then run back onto their spaceship and fly away!  You're left staring and wondering what the hell just happened, but as a parent you figure out pretty quickly that trying to piece it all together  would cause more headaches than just letting it slide, so slide it does.  You then go back to whatever you were talking about and just let the whole thing go.  So you see, kids really are a lot like aliens.  They're just cuter.  Maybe it's advanced shielding.  Or maybe they just have us all so confused that we're willing to believe they are.... What was I talking about again?