Mondays are awesome at our house.
Mondays are Brent's real day off. (Saturdays don't count. Too much stuff happens and there is, inevitably, the sermon.)
Also, I get to take Clare to school on Mondays, because it's Brent's day off. The tradeoff for having to get up (remember, JTB =/= morning person) is conversation with Clare over breakfast and in the car on the way to school. Most of the time, with both kids, conversations consist of "hands to yourself" "get out of your sister's face" "what is this mess and when did it happen" "why is your underwear/socks/entire school uniform in the middle of the living room floor" and "what just happened and why is she crying about it." So getting to have a real conversation with my brainy and unpredictable conversationalist is a treat.
In the car she spotted a high school kid on the sidewalk, walking to school, smoking. "That boy shouldn't be smoking!" she said.
Discussion of smoking being bad for your body, etc. Then, "did you ever smoke, Mom?"
"Yes, honey. I tried it when I was a teenager."
"But why? Didn't you know it was bad for you?"
"Yes, I knew. But my friends were smoking and I wanted to try it too. It wasn't really fun. So I didn't keep doing it."
"You did it because your friends were doing it?! Maybe you should have told your friends it was bad for them instead."
"I should have! But I wasn't really a very confrontational person back then."
"Oh." Pause. "Are you a confrontational person now?"
"Um...yeah, I'd say so." Laughing to myself that this is seen as an unquestioned positive.
"Do you think I'll be confrontational when I grow up?"
"I'm pretty sure of that, honey."