Mom, what did you do today?

It's finally occurred to me that the little poppets are exacting some sort of middle school revenge upon me.

They get into the car and say, "Mom, what did you do today?"

Now, my days are pretty uniform, actually. Take Squish to school, T to the bus stop, the dogs on their walk-- half a mile on aqua days, a mile and a half or more on non-aqua days, work, aqua, get lunch, pick up one kid, nap in front of the school while waiting for the other kid to get out, get home, nap and/or work.

I'm serious--unless you are inside my head, when I'm not with my kids (or, you know, losing my shit) I am about as exciting as watching paint dry.

So I should have gotten suspicious when it started to happen.

"Hey, mom, what did you do today?"

"Uh, nothing.  Did you have a good day today?"

"Sure. How are you?"

"C'mon, guys, work with me here!"

"Did you tell any jokes?"

"You mean like..."

"The Del Taco kid-- did you tell any jokes to him?"

"I don't know-- you tell me, we're on our way for snack!"  (Okay, I lied-- on Thursdays we have snack day where we get to go somewhere for a soda and a snack.)

"Well, do you have a joke ready for the kid at Del Taco?"

As it turned out, I did.

"So, what's a dinosaur's favorite pickup line?"

The kid--an adorable twinkie with Pokemon earrings and chin fuzz, is always game for a terrible joke. "I have no idea."  (I know he likes me because he pulls the earpiece away from his ear when I drive up to his window, so he can hear whatever bullshit thing I'm going to say today.)

"Hey, baby, you put the ass in Jurassic!"

He laughs. "Babies everywhere!"

"See, the Flirtatious period-- them were rockin' times!"

And then we get our food and leave.

So, we're driving away and I'm congratulating myself on cracking up the Del Taco guy (because I have a very boring life and a teeny- tiny brain!) and the kids are back at it.

"So, did anything else happen?"

"I, uh, found my shit."

"Did you have a good day?"

And about here, on the umpteenth repetition, it hits me.

Deflection.

I have been a victim of a classic deflection technique.

"More importantly," I say, "Did you have a good day? How are your grades? How was your test? Your speech for student council? Your interaction with your teacher? Is the bully still bullying? Is your bestie still there at lunch? How is your teacher? Are you having a pizza party? A regular party? Do I get details when it happened? Have you flirted with anybody? Did that terrible kid you hated move away? C'mon, guys, MAMA WANTS DETAILS!"

They spill details, of course, but I have to breathe a sigh of relief.

It really is MUCH more exciting to be on the other side of the interrogation.

My little monsters live such interesting lives!