Hey, Stupid!

I have five children, and apparently all five are named Stupid.  At  least, that's what you'd think if you hung around outside my house and listened to them interact with one another.  It sounds something like this:

"Get out of my room, Stupid!"

"Hey, Stupid, that's my pencil."

"Mom, Stupid spilled juice all over the floor."

And so on and so forth.  They really do all love each other and generally work very well together; I honestly don't think I could ever have imagined such a tight-knit group of siblings.  It's just that somehow, the word "stupid" has come to be their go-to pronoun in casual conversation.  I've been teaching them grammar for a number of years now, and I'm sure the pronoun list does NOT go he-she-him-her-it-stupid-they-them-their.  So we'll work on it.  I was planning to add some Emily Post etiquette training to our curriculum anyhow.  

In other news, Fly had her first visit to the vet yesterday.  I took the 3 oldest children along to help.  All went well, until the drive home.  The vet had plied the puppy with a steady supply of dog biscuits to keep her happy while she was doing all the vet-stuff.  Can you guess where this is going?  Paul, as the oldest and bossiest, was holding the puppy on his lap in the van.  The puppy's front end was aimed directly at Joe, who got the full load of barfed-up dog treats deposited directly into his lap.  This was heralded with loud cries of, "Eeeewwww, Mom, the dog barfed!  All over Joe!" closely followed by gurgling gagging noises from Joe.  Fortunately, we were almost home, and the kids managed a tuck-and-roll evac from the van before anyone else joined the barf party.  Another tale for the Treasury of Becker Family Barfing In the Van stories.