Well, at least she’s learning French

Sassy has been trying out grown-up phrases lately.  Not naughty phrases that will get her in trouble, just adult phrases that I am very amused by.  Sometimes she uses them all wrong and other times they are just absurd coming out of a seven year old’s mouth.

Last night she tried out a new one.

“I’m going to go the the bathroom and then I’ll help you with your homework,” I tell her.

“Touche,” she says.

“What?” I ask her. 

“Touche,” she repeats.

“You’re not using that right,” I tell her.  When she asks what it means, I explain that it’s used in an argument when your opponent scores a point.  She wants an example which, of course, I can’t manage to come up with on the spot.  I’m a writer and I do dialogue all the time, but apparently not this very moment.

“I’ll argue with Daddy over dinner and see if I can get one in there,” I offer.  What a good mommy I am to sacrifice myself this way, don’t you think?

In another example, the other day she sat down on the couch next to me while I typed away on my laptop. 

“Mom,” she began, her voice and expression very serious.  “I think I need to reevaluate my life.”

I really, really need to work on not breaking into hysterical peels of laughter when she says things like this to me.

“What could you possibly need to reevaluate?  You’re seven,” I remind her. 

“I don’t know,” she admits.

“Where did you hear that?” I ask, still giggling.  I have half a mind to tell her how disappointed her father and I are about the way she’s living her life and insist that we raised her better than that.

“I don’t know, but it’s not that funny.”  She’s insulted.

“Oh yes.  Yes, it is”, I say.  “Believe me, I know funny and that’s funny.”

“Then maybe you need to reevaluate what you think is funny,” she tells me in her haughtiest voice.

I grab her in a huge hug.  “Touche, baby, touche!”