Wishing for a normal argument

Yesterday on the way to the chiropractor, TJ and Sam got into a heated discussion as to whether dry ice (which at first, they were calling 'hot ice', so I really had no idea what they were talking about) was really really cold or really really hot. 

Later they were bickering over when the galaxy was going to explode and when the Big Dipper was going to shift its constellation. 

Please. Can't we argue over who gets the last cookie or who gets the remote control? 

Future perfect husband

Tuesday night, we arrived home from a long weekend at our Laurium house. We probably won't be back there until June, so I made every effort to leave the house clean and packed up. 

But it appears I forgot something. Wednesday morning I was putting on my makeup and I reached for my mascara. It wasn't in its correct spot. I checked my travel bag. No mascara. I have no idea how I did it, but it appears I left it up north.

I looked through my stash of extra makeup. No mascara. Bill was in the next room and I called over to him to grab his keys. He asked what was up, and I told him I forgot my mascara in Laurium and he needed to go get it for me. 

He laughed and said he'd pass on that opportunity. Nolan was standing there, listening to our exchange, and he got very offended. 

"Dad! You need to go right now!"

Bill laughed again and told Nolan it was a 20-hour round trip. Nolan was still indignant. "So? Mom asked you to get it! You need to go!"

So Nolan doesn't quite understand our humor all the time. I assured him that I was joking and I could get a new mascara from the store. 

But to Nolan's future wife: you're welcome. I hope you appreciate how thoughtful and caring he is. But don't get any big ideas. I won't let him grow up and get married until he is at least 30.