We were all sitting around a fire in the backyard this weekend when I asked Z what she was reading lately. That’s a fine parenting question. She told me all about a Smurf book she had. Then her father muttered to me, “They didn’t even taste good.” That’s a Robot Chicken reference to Gargamel finally catching and cooking Smurfs only to find out that they taste icky.
Z heard him. Then he launched into a story about how the Smurfs used to live in our backyard. Gargamel’s cat wasn’t getting the job done so he hired Riley to kill Smurfs. He’s a great hunter so he killed them all off pretty fast. Powder had to help due to the vast quantity of the Smurf infestation. Freckles is a terrible hunter but she did manage to trample the houses while in the yard.
The SO and I were embellishing the story and having a great time. Z was aghast. She said she was going to report this to her mother. The SO deadpanned, “Your mother was in on it.” Not only that Santa was too. I didn’t know how to top that until I said that the Easter Bunny had to stay away now too. I told her that was why we didn’t have an egg hunt in the yard this year. She had to do the church egg hunt because the Easter Bunny was scared of Riley.
I think she was most upset that all this went down without her noticing. Someday she is going to realize that most things that come out of our mouths are pure BS made up for our own entertainment. I think it is the sign of a good relationship that we can crack ourselves up.
I also think that someday Z is going to totally entertain her therapist with the story of how her family killed the Smurfs.