Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition

...especially not from a 10-year-old boy at 7 in the morning. This was the scene in our kitchen this morning:

Noah, flipping through Netflix envelopes, "Are these movies we watched or new ones?"
"They're new ones."
"What are they?"
"I don't know, we haven't opened them yet."
He started examining the envelopes, turning them over in his hands. "How do you open them?"

I never open them, and the way he was interrogating me was just weird, so I started stammering, "Um, I think you break the seal on the side and then open it like a book."
"Oh. Which movies are they?"
"I don't know, Noah. I think one of them is Garden State."
"I thought you said you didn't know."
"I don't know. I'm guessing, because that was in the queue. God."

A few minutes passed, then he noticed some money on the counter, which Rob had left for me to pay a bill.

"Whose four 50s are these?"
"Mine."

A pause. "Are you sure they're not Dad's?"

"Yes. They were Dad's, but he gave them to me."
"Oh, okay. I just wanted to make sure you weren't stealing Dad's money."
"...!?"

That's me, shooting him a look but not dignifying that with a response (though let me just state for the record that I DON'T STEAL MONEY FROM MY HUSBAND). "Let's go, dude, you're late for orchestra. Oh, and give me my money."

Yeesh, even the boy knows who carries the cash around here. :)

LMAO!

It's good to know someone's looking out for me when I'm not around..