Catch & Scribbling

Friends, sometimes the ridiculousness and hilarity of life with small children can be hard to capture and express to others. So the other evening, when we had one of those sitcom moments, I decided to jot it down so I could share it for your comedic pleasure. So here goes our after dinner family time:

Audrey: Daddy! Let’s play catch!!
Ben: Ok, but I’m going to win!
Audrey: Actually, everybody wins at catch. But I can choose whether I get a point or not. I wanted to get a point, so I didn't catch it.
Ben: You caught it! You don't get a point.
Audrey: I know! Well I'm still learning. You also get points for being proud of yourself. So I have like 1,000 points.
I think to myself that if we’re quantifying her self-confidence level, it would be WAY over 1,000, but I choose not to correct her. Ben fails to catch the ball as it sails across the room in a completely opposite direction of his location.
Audrey: That’s ok, Dad! If you don't catch it, you get a point.
Ben: I just got 5 points, because I dropped it!
Audrey: No, 4
Ben: How about 6?
Audrey: No no no. Daddy, daddy. There's RULES to this game.
If it hits your computer, it's helpful to your computer so you get 2 points.
After the unfortunate computer incident, a few minutes of successful throwing and catching...
Audrey: Whoever has the most points wins. And I have 1,000.
Ben: Well I have 40,000 points so I'm winning.
Audrey: ok ok. So I have 7,000 points.
Ben: is 40,000 less than 7,000?
Audrey: oh yeah I meant I have $70,000. Daddy, let's not talk about this anymore because you're being silly. Oh, I know! How about we both have bowls!
Ben: oh perfect!
Audrey: so you have to catch it in your bowl, and if I catch it, you get a point, and if you catch it, I get a point.
Ben: Ah! You didn't catch it!
Audrey: That's ok! See, if you put the bowl over the ball like this you still get a point.
Ben: Ok, ok. Yes, I see.
About this time, we hear a very distinct scratchy-scraping sound coming from the hallway. Ben's eyes meet mine instantly, and confusion quickly turns to worry. "Willa," we say in unison.
I jump up and round the corner to see this:
The little artist had borrowed both her sisters boots and chalk, and was happily scribbling away.

Friends, this is our life. My cup overflows.