I used to think I was a smart person. I probably was, too, maybe in my teenage years, when I had more sensible things to do than watch drag queens (love you, RuPaul) and play Bejeweled on my phone until I feel my pillow getting drenched from eye-fatigue tears. The more I age though, the more I question my brain's abilities. I think I am slowly becoming my mother, which is not really necessarily a bad thing. I could be a good subject of someone else's blog someday. If I'm lucky.
Unfortunately (well, fortunately for the other party), the regression of my intellect is proportional to the progression of Martina's. Over the weekend, she caught me off-guard again by hurling another random barrage of questions at me. It was much like the
math-related series from the previous blog post, with similar elementary errors from me.
(Warning: To all those who will be tempted to send in their corrections, I know my answers aren't always accurate, so please just let me be. Martina has the rest of her life to figure it out. I, on the other hand, have stopped caring.)
I remember a time when
I liked tricking children but now I am in serious danger of actually and unintentionally miseducating them.
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| I was supposed to remember this. I was there. |
Martina: What do lions eat?
Me: Other animals.
(She wasn't as bothered by this bit of information as I thought she would be)
Martina: What do deer eat?
Me: Hmm. Smaller animals. Oh wait. Maybe plants because they have a smaller mouth.
Martina: I think they eat carrots. Remember we fed them at the zoo?
Me: Wow, you're right. They can eat carrots.
(*slapping my forehead for not remembering*)
Martina: What do pandas eat?
Me: Bamboo!!!
(Yeeessss. An easy one.)
Martina: What do ants eat?
Me: Our food.
Martina: What do birds eat?
Me: Seeds ... worms ...
Martina: What about eagles?
Me:
(*realizing eagles are birds* ... wait, are they?) Oh hmm. Eagles can eat mice.
Martina: Can they eat you?
Me: No, maybe not.
Martina: So they can eat only medium-sized things?
Me:
(*burning all my M-sized clothes*)
Martina: What do kangaroos eat?
Me: Oh my g ... Small things. We should really ask Juancho. Where is Juancho???
(I rely on smart 9-year-olds now)
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| Stop watching football and answer your sister's questions. |
Me again: Hey Marteens, want to learn a new word?
(I was feeling particularly clever at this point and was hoping for redemption)
Martina: OK!
Me: So when an animal eats just plants, it's called a
vegetarian.
(!?!?)
Martina: OK.
Me: WAIT! NO! WAIT!
Martina: What?
Me: I'm wrong! Wait. OK, so when an animal eats only meat or other animals, it's called a carnivore.
Martina: A CARNIVAL???
Me: No, carnivore.
(*secretly thinking 'carnival' is a better word*) And when it eats only plants, it's called a herbivore.
(Goal!)
Then she started tickling me until we both fell asleep from laughing.
... My stories never end the way they're supposed to nowadays.
