The Fastest Way to Start the Day (do-not-try-this-at-home version)

Our son, Walter (10), sleeps in the bedroom next to ours – we also have a common door.
This morning he asks me to dress him up (this negotiation process repeats itself every morning, by the way).
I inform him that this is unfortunately impossible – due to the fact that these moments I myself am hoping to get someone who dresses ME up.
Hearing this, he flies Hippo from his bed to ours, so Hippo will help me get dressed and so I can help Walter..
On the other hand, he himself admits he cannot rely with all this MasterPlan only on a single toy.. so he also flies Chicken, who according to the script will support Hippo in his devoted efforts to dress me up..
My husband wishes success to the mission, and – being pretty good in reading situations quickly – serves breakfast both to me and our son in bed today.

Heroic

Our daughter (13) coming home, changing clothes in the hall, meaning dragging her shorts off through her boots.

She (quickly looking at my face while I am watching the heroic struggle):

‘Mom, I know you have difficult moments right now, and I want you to know how proud I am of you that you do not say a word…and that you keep it this way..’

Excuse me

We are buying some sweaters to our daughter in NL.
The method recommended by her is the following: I take a photo of her in each piece and then on the basis of the pics she takes the decision.
I pop the question: what if she just takes a look directly in the mirror?
From her look I conclude it was the Ultimate Evidence of Misunderstandings cross Generations. 
I say a quiet ‘sorry’ and back out of the changing room with my eyes downcast.

It’s all perspective

Me (to my 13-yr-old daughter): ‘Can you remind me, please, what the Dutch verb ‘verwennen’ means? I forgot..’

She: ‘It means e.g. when parents pamper their children, do everything for them..’

Me: ‘Ah, now I start to understand. But ‘pamper/do everything for them’ – you mean in the positive or negative sense?’

She: ‘From whose perspective?’

Charmeur

We have an acquaintance – a kind lady in her 60s, she leads a very sporty life, and cares about her appearance in every respect – of which she is rather proud.

At this moment she is trying to chitchat with our little son.

Sporty Lady (sending an encouraging smile): ‘And, Walter, can you guess how old I am?’

Walter (carefully studying her before giving an answer): ’80?’

Walter is a charmeur.