Daughters

We were sitting at Wendy's, having our usual elegant supper before groceries, when I started realized how big our little kids were getting.  Our son is almost 6, and our daughter just turned 3.

"Dear, K(the girl) seems so little.  But she's older than W (the boy) was when we brought her home from the hospital.  Hard to believe he was so little."

The 5 year old son is listening in - because he's a hawk - and claims he remembers me going to the hospital to have his little sister.  He would have been 2 and a half.

"But you didn't see me, W.  The hospital didn't let kids in, you had to wait until I came home."

"I know," he says, "I remember you coming home."

"You remember me coming home after she was born?"  I'm not 100% in disbelief, 'cause this kid has an incredible memory.

"Yes," he claims.

"Oh."  I'm baffled.  "So," I continued, "You know the day you were born is your birthday?"

"You mean K's birthday is the day she was born?"

Now, all during this exchange, K is gobbling up her fries and gravy (gross!), seemingly not paying attention.  But she was.

"Noooooooooooooooooo!!!!  I'm not BORING!!!!!!!!"

Huh?

"W said I'm boring, I'm NOT boring!!!!"

We start to giggle, which just infuriated her more.

"He didn't say boring, he said you were BORN."

"NO!!!!!!!  I'm NOT BORING!!!!  Stop saying that W!!"

People were starting to stare at us, so we gave up, and told W to stop saying K is boring.  He agreed, like a good man, because, well, he didn't say it in the first place.