“The teacher didn’t like my thesis statement for my essay!”
“Well, what was your thesis?”
“Books are entertainment.”
“Hmm… well, it’s a little broad. And it’s the truth. So, you know.”
“I hate essays,” she humphed.
“You love essays,” I told her, laughing as I drove.
“I do not.”
“You do too– you write them all the time.”
“No I don’t!”
“Sure you do. Like, when you say ‘Mommm… I think we should have Noodles for dinner today. Because reasons reasons reasons, and then Squishie gets her way.'”
She laughed. “Reasons reasons reasons?”
“Yeah. Like the teacher says– you have to have three reasons. And you always have three reasons. Like, Mommy’s tired, and Mommy cooked all week, and it was late and you didn’t want me to cook after dance lessons–like, reasons.”
“Heh heh heh. Uh huh! And then I get my way!”
I kept driving, and then we pulled in front of ZoomBoy’s school, and parked to wait for him to get out of chess club, and she reminded me, “Mom– we need to watch the rest of that Supernatural episode!”
“Yes, I know.”
“Sam was such a sad kid, wasn’t he?”
“Yeah, but Dean was more sad,” I told her– cause, hey. I’m a Dean girl.
“Well, because Dean always had to look after Sam. Dean was stuck in hotel rooms for a long time watching his little brother–and he had to give up his cereal and any relationships with anyone but his family. Every time he had a friend or a girl friend, his Dad came back into town and he had to leave. And Sam got to go to school for four years, but Dean was never able to escape the idea that this was his job.”
“Reasons reasons reasons, and then Mommy’s right.”
“Yup. That’s how you write an essay.