Sometimes when Marshall gets mad at us he vents his irritation by saying, “You’re fired!” I have no idea where he got that phrase from, but it’s kind of funny, so I don’t mind. But one day he told me that I was fired, and I couldn’t help but tease him. Here’s how the conversation went.
Marshall: You’re fired!
Mommy: Yay! I’m fired! Do you know what that means, Marshall?
Marshall: No.
Mommy: I won’t have get up with you in the morning, feed you, wash your laundry, or wipe your butt, because it won’t be my job anymore. That’s what it means to be fired.
Marshall: Oh. Then you’re not fired.