No squirrels were harmed in the making of this post.

"Oh, you don't want to do that." I warned.

Kaila was running her hands all over my SUV's back tire.

"Why?"

"Well, let's say it touched something icky. For example, what if I ran over a squirrel?"

"Why would you do that?" Kaila was backing away, staring at me, horrified.

"Well, I mean by accident, of course!"

"Why wouldn't you avoid it?" Madan chimed in.

"Of course I'd try to avoid the squirrel. But, sometimes mistakes happen!" What the hell? Why the rodent inquisition? Sometimes I'd pay my kids a penny to keep their damn thoughts.

"You should try harder." Madan said being totally judgmental about his mother's driving.

"So, I should swerve to miss the squirrel, hit a tree and end up in the hospital with my head cracked open like an egg? Then, I'd miss my favorite class at the gym." I love exacting guilt through hyperbole.

"That makes no sense, Mom."

Yeah? What part? I had forgotten. My son has no compassion for his mother -- just like I have no compassion for furry little rodents. The apple does not fall far...

"Since when do you love squirrels?" I responded, "You got a Yankee Flipper bird feeder for your birthday so you could watch squirrels go for a 60 mph spin and then fling off into space!"

"That's different. That's funny. Running over squirrels is not."

Squirrels: 1
Yo Mama Morris: 0


Do you like my new bumper sticker? I made the Doobies buy it for me with their allowance.

Some material may not be suitable for children.

"Mom, did you know that the worst, scariest movies are rated S?"

"X? Who told you about X-rated movies!?" Once again, I misunderstood my son. I'm sure I'm going deaf. Note to self, order Miracle-Ear.

"S! S! Rated S! They're really awful movies. It's the worst rating you can have."

"S? I'm pretty sure there's no such rating."

"For real. There IS!"

Oh, I forgot. A six-year old is always right. And, the only way to prove him wrong is to Google it. It was 7am. No one had breakfast. Everyone's hair still looked like we were at a Bon Jovi concert. I shrugged, started humming "You Give Love a Bad Name," and fired up the laptop.

"G. PG. PG-13. R. NC-17. See? No S." (And, no X either, by the way. Isn't X a real rating?)

"They must not have added S yet. It must be new," Madan offered up.

Of course it must be new. Because to be otherwise would mean you're wrong, Madan, and a six-year-old is never wrong. I decided to play along with my little Roger Ebert. "Okay. What is sooooo bad about an S-rated movie?"

"It has grown-ups and kissing. IT'S TERRIBLE! A kid at school told me about it."

Madan had a serious look of worry about him. I could see the ulcer growing in his stomach. Even though I'm deaf, I could hear his brain screaming, "Why would anyone film two people kissing? GROSS! I don't want to see that!"

"Don't worry, Madan. You don't have to go see an S-rated movie. Ever."

Relief washed over his face.

Some material may not be suitable for children, I guess.