C.L.A.I.R.E.

I never posted this over the summer when it happened but if I ever turn my blog into a book I want to record it. It is just so darn funny.

We were finishing up dinner one evening...

If you are ever a fly on our wall at dinner time you would see that Erik is up at the first moment food is finished and is cleaning up. Me on the other hand, well I like to sit at the table and talk and let my food "settle" a bit. So usually by the time I stand to take my plate to the sink - or glass (if Erik has already removed my plate) the majority of dinner clean up is complete.

Part of my justification the reason I remain sitting is because Erik wouldn't want my help anyway. You see, Erik believes you should thoroughly scour plates and utensils before loading them into the dishwasher. Me? Well I think that a dish washer is made to clean dirty dishes. So in our home I just load those dirty dishes in the dishwasher and when Erik finds them in the dishwasher he then takes them out and scours them. Works pretty good, aye?

Right.

Back to dinner.

Erik is at the counter while the five of us girls are at the table finishing our chat dinner. At this point Erik starts to wipe the counter, our stark white corian counters, if that helps you visualize better.

As Erik wipes he comes across some markings and with a hint of annoyance says...

"Who colored crayon all over the counter?"

To which McCall, with a hint of pre-teen attitude says...

"Uhhhh, F.Y.I. Dad, it was marker!"

To which Claire, with a hint of 4-year-old honesty replies...

"No, it was C.L.A.I.R.E!"