Saturday, February 20, 2010
We were watching "Sherlock Holmes" last night and in one scene was a structure in the background.
The Girl: Is that the Eiffel Tower? (mind you, it looked nothing like the Eiffel Tower)
Hubby: Eiffel Tower?? That's in Paris!
The Girl: Where are they then?
Hubby: They're in ENGLAND!
The Girl: I thought they were in Paris.
Hubby: You are the exact opposite of Sherlock Holmes.
Me: She's Sherlock NOT Home.
Hubby: BUAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Good one Mama!
The Girl: Way to boost my self-esteem, mom.
Me: Sorry, honey, but if it's any consolation, it's probably hereditary.
Then there is the now famous "2000 year-old bread" conversation. Well, at least it's famous at our house.
Hubby and my 19-year old son (who we endearingly call The Boy) were talking about life.
Hubby: I'm happy right now. I've done pretty much everything I've wanted to do in my life. The only thing I would really like is to own something 2000 years old. To have something that old, that has been touched by history, that I could hold in my hand and think about all the people over time that might have held it, would be really cool.
The Boy: You already have something 2000 years old.
Hubby: I do?
The Boy: Bread.
The Boy: Yeah. They had bread 2000 years ago.
At this point, hubby stares, dumbfounded, at our son. When he recuperates, he lunches into a lecture about thought processes and life and the world, a lecture that was so baffling to our son that the boy came to me later and said he will never again engage in a deep conversation with Hubby while the man is recovering from surgery and on pain meds.
But hubby on the other hand, is a glutton for punishment. So he retells the story to The Girl. The Girl's insightful response?
The Girl: They didn't have bread 2000 years ago.
Oh, I so hope they don't drown out there.