I don't like this game

"Mom, you're an mean witch. Okay?" Biscuit said to me earlier this evening.

"Why do I always have to be the mean witch?" I asked. "Am I mean?"

"No, but you scare me," he said.

"When do I scare you?" I asked.

"All the time," Biscuit said.

I happened to be talking to a friend on the phone when Biscuit was telling me all of this.

"He oughta be scared of me!" I said to my friend. "I have no idea where his little brain comes up with all this stuff."

Biscuit said that Jeff was the prince, and I was the mean witch. I was supposed to lock up Jeff the Prince in a high tower. Then Jeff the Prince was going to call for help, and Biscuit (aka Rescue Cowboy) would jump on his horse and go rescue the prince. Then he would ride his horse to his cowboy firetruck and head back to the bunkhouse fire station.

So Jeff is a prince. Biscuit is a rescue hero. And I'm a mean witch.

I don't like this game!

----------------------------------------------------

Oh, wait! We have a new game.

"Mom," Biscuit said excitedly. "When you carry mail to the post office, and it doesn't have enough stamps on it, it goes in the 'do not deliver' basket."

"Really?" I said, trying to sound surprised at the interesting fact I had just learned.

"Yes," Biscuit said. "And if you have enough stamps on your mail, it goes into a delivery truck and gets taken wherever it's supposed to go."

"Wow," I said.

"And Mom," Biscuit said. "You're a person who doesn't have enough stamps."

I can't win for losing tonight!