Shoot The Moose

I feel like I know my children pretty well. Zaphod* (9 - almost 10) is the typical oldest child. Strong willed, meticulous, logical, obsessed with keeping his hands clean. Trillian* (8) is the first ever Princess-Tomboy. She's the artistic, froufrou, hyper-feminine type, yet she loves animals - not in a PETA way, either. There is absolutely no critter she won't approach and handle (if we let her) . My wife and I have arranged our schedules so they are not in before/aftercare - if they aren't in school, we're with them.

That's why the conversation in the car on the way home from school came as quite a surprise to me:

Zaphod (to Trillian): "Yeah, well I hate your best friend. I'm pretty upset right now!"
Trillian: "What are you going to do, go look at your money?"
Zaphod: "Huh?"
Trillian: "I've seen you! Every time you get sad, or mad, or bored, you go look at your money!"

I interrupted: "You mean like compulsive eaters or alchoholics?"

Trillian: "That's what he does!"

Zaphod didn't deny it, he just giggled the rest of the way home.

I've got Silas Marner under my own roof, and didn't know it!

*Names changed to protect the (sort-of) innocent!