Cecelia and Jack were riding in the back seat of the car tonight. I picked them up from their dad and stepmom's after my post-work Tuesday routine of running, dinner, and yoga (on a good Tuesday, ha ha). We were on our way home for crunch time involving chapter book, snuggle, and bed.
I asked, "How was your day?"
Cecelia rushed in. "Daddy took me to the end of the season basketball thing. I got to run out at halftime when my name was called and throw beads to the crowd, wearing my uniform. I didn't actually run, I skipped. It was awesome."
Jack said, "It would have been more awesome if you would have raised your arms and confetti shot out of your underarms."
Cecelia and I laughed pretty hard. I said, "Jack, that was so cool to think of, didn't we get that out of that sleepover book I bought for y'all?"
Cecelia said, "Yes! It is called 'Would You Rather.' I think that one was: Would you rather be able to shoot confetti out of your underarms or have glow in the dark poop?"
I laughed, "Now I remember. As cool as it would be to have glow in the dark poop, I think I like the confetti out of your underarms better. But wouldn't it be even cooler if you had a dial that switched things up? Like you could change the confetti to whipped cream if you wanted?"
Both kids loved that idea and they took off with suggestions. Cecelia said, "I would love to be able to shoot whipped cream, or chocolate sauce!" Jack surprised me again. "What about love potion?"
Cecelia and I both giggled. I watched in the rear view mirror as Jack mimed a flirty grin to Cecelia, said, "How you doing," and raised his arm over his head for a pretend squirt. Cecelia and I laughed and laughed.
After we exhausted imagining a bleacher full of people covered in all sorts of various food items vaulted from our underarms (Chunks of cheese! Cheese sauce! Confetti on top! Etc. etc.) the drive was over and the bed time routine was carried out.
As I was tucking Jack into bed, he voiced one more suggestion. "It would be cool if I could raise my underarm and make smoky words come out. You know, instead of talking. All our mouths would be moving, but it would just be smoky words from right here." He pointed to his underarms and I could see the smoky words.
I smiled and gave him a good night hug. He's going to be a helluva writer someday.