five year old: "Mommy, we are going to have a concert on Saturday."
me: "Great! Are you inviting me?"
four year old: "Well, it's for Daddy. But you can come if you want. But it's for Daddy. We have to practice now. C'mon Cherie."
five year old looking back over her shoulder at me: "We need to sing a lot."
me: "It's almost bedtime, so define a lot."
baffled looks from four year old diva and four year old manager who've stopped dead in their tracks.
five year old: "We need to write down all the words to our songs. Will you help us write it down?"
me: "But you don't read."
more baffled looks exchanged between songwriters extraordinaire
five year old: "But we have to remember the songs, so you have to write them down."
me with an eye on the clock: "I think maybe this will take longer than we have tonight."
five year old: "But it must be done. Can you write it?"
me: "When I write it down, what will you do with it?"
four year old: ". . . nothing."
Uh-huh, just what I thought.

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