Oil & Water

Two years apart in age but the exact same size, my kids get mistaken for twins a lot. Which would be cool because I like to think that twins actually like each other. However, the only common interest my children share is fighting with their sibling.

Cara, my dear Pookie, is 7 years old in life, but intellectually she's about 24. She informed me that her favorite singer is Lil Wayne, but because he frequents the b word, the h word, the f word and the g word (I did not ask her to clarify), she settles for Nicki Minaj and Ne-yo. She is a total boy. It's only recently that I have been able to negotiate her into a skirt. Before that she would cry crocodile tears and beg to wear pants because she "didn't want to sit like a lady". My darling daughter is a social butterfly, whose best friend calls my phone more than MY best friend calls my phone. My Pookie Doo is overly interested in food. She is the only child I have ever met who will cry, real tears, over food. She loves to argue, she knows everything, and thanks to older influences, boys are no longer "cute" because they're now "hot". Ugh.

Evan, the Brain, is 9 years old, and socially he's approaching 7. He still thinks girls have cooties, his lifelong goal is to become a professional gamer, and his sister is his arch nemesis. He is laid back and generally agreeable. He is an extreme brainiac, hence the nickname. He is the kid who will stop you mid-sentence to let you know that you've used a compound word. He likes to analyze the things people say and categorize them by facts versus opinions. On long trips in the car, he asks questions that he knows damn well I can't answer.

Mom? What do hippos eat?
Mom? Does God ever sleep?
Mom? Why is my poop brown, but I never ate anything brown?

Uh, I'm not sure, buddy. We'll have to google it when we get home.

Having polar opposite personalities hasn't done much for their relationship. World War 3 happens in pretty much the same sequential order, over the same predictable things on a very regular basis. It goes pretty much like this: Cara performs some obnoxious little sister act, loud enough for Evan to hear, but generally not loud enough for me to notice. This act includes, but is not limited to, calling him some derogatory name, sticking her tongue out at him, initiating a wet willie, kissing his cheek (the ULTIMATE no-no for him), crossing her eyes at him, blatantly ignoring him, singing the same Bieber lyric on repeat, booger picking/flicking in his direction, or purposely stretching her foot, arm or head onto his side of the backseat in the car. He shoots me a quick pre-pubescent, high pitched, "Moooo-ooooooom! Tell her to STOP!" I politely threaten her life, she promises to stop and then she distracts me with big innocent green eyes. Seconds pass, I think the situation is rectified, and the next thing I know he screams, she laughs, he screams in an even more angry tone, she mocks him, he tackles her and then starts throwing closed-fist body shots. She continues to laugh. I like to think there's a hint of normalcy to it...

As it turns out, my Pookie has the upper hand in just about all of their disagreements because, well, she's just more street smart than he is. Each night they rock, paper, scissors to see who has to get in the shower first. Every night Cara finagles her way into a 15th round (she wasn't ready, she wasn't paying attention, her nose itched, she had a cut on her thumb which hindered her ability to fully execute her scissors formation) until she ultimately wins and showers second. The best part is that Evan never argues. He just gets pissed and storms off into the bathroom.

I signed up for a long and happy life with these two opposing teams. For now, I'm just going to appreciate them as comedic relief. And just in case you were wondering...

Hippos are herbivores. Their diet consists of mainly grass and some water plants.

There is evidence in the bible that suggests God sleeps, but also the contrary. Theoretically, though, he isn't human like you or I, which means he shouldn't need to eat or sleep. He is just chilling in heaven taking care of holy bidness.

Per smellypoop.com, the color of poop itself comes from iron. Iron in hemoglobin in red blood cells gives blood its red color, and iron in the waste product bilirubin gives rise to its brown color.

So now you know. Thanks, Google!

Frienemies for life!