H.C. has been a quotefest recently.  And it only gets better with time..

The moon hung almost eerily low in the early evening sky, orange as cheddar cheese and appearing about three times its normal, late-night size in the sky.  H.C. and I listened to Harry Connick, Jr., because it’s after Halloween and, according to my admittedly childish calendar, time to start ushering in the Christmas Spirit.

As we drove into the neighborhood, I spotted our Lunar neighbor in the eastern sky.  I sat in awe of its appearance for a moment, then pointed it out to H.C., who could see it clearly through the windshield from her seat in the back of the car.  Without further adieu (or setup for the punchline):

Me: “Punkin, do you see the moon in front of us?”

H.C.: “Yeah.  It’s really big!”

Me: “It sure is!”

H.C.: “Daddy, how did the moon get so big?”

Me: “I don’t know, Punkin.”

H.C.: “I know, Daddy!  The moon ate everything up!  That’s how come it got so big!”

I don’t create this stuff, folks.  I just report it.

H.C. attends a very ethnically diverse school, and I am thrilled about that.  She is exposed daily to numerous cultures — black, Hispanic, Asian…

Sometimes, though, we’re surprised by what she has learned.  I, for one, can vouch for the fact that the King of Pop is never — never — played in this house.  Pre- or post-mortem.  I swear.  But last week Christina ad I were blessed with this gem as we worked on reorganizing some parts of the house.  Namely, we were finally cleaning all the papers off the table, floor and desk in the dining area and putting them in the new plastic drawers I bought to place under the desk in a pseudo-filing cabinet sort of role:

Me: “Here’s a drawer for me, one for things I want you to take a look at, one for Kaylee’s school papers…there’s even one to put your receipts in.”

H.C.: “Why are you talking about Michael Jackson?”

…I’ve got nothing.