Just this morning, my oldest son, who is almost 12 (sniff), was sitting on the floor in his pajama shorts when he casually pulled out a tooth and asked if I had a baggie in an off-hand way. Immediately Emerson, the two year old, said "I wanna try it!" and opened his mouth. What?! He then proceeded to follow K around crying for ten minutes, begging "I wanna try the toofer!" We tried letting him hold it, but he would open his mouth wide instead! Gross. We didn't want to go that far, so we placated him by promising to look for a different tooth in a different room. (thankfully, he got distracted)
He thinks "cute" is the opposite of "big." The other day we were registering big bro for junior high. The lobby had some blue terraced carpeted steps which of course drew the little boy like a magnet. He loves to climb stuff. The next thing I knew, he was standing at the top with his arms outstretched and the biggest grin on his face (and he has a little dimple! it is so cute!). He shouted out "I'm BIIIIGG!" Then he jumped down a level and announced in a small voice, arms outstretched again "now I'm cute!" Then up again "now I'm big again!" Ha ha. Today he pulled a drink straw in and out while saying, "now its big, now its cute, now its big, now its cute."
On that same line, E. likes to comment on the weather every time we get in the car. It took a few weeks for him to transition from commenting that it was cold to using the word hot. Then one day I put him in his car seat and he said to me "it's big hot." On a different day, when the weather was cooler (the one and only day this summer?), he paused for a minute before he turned to me with surprise a little lilt in his voice: "it's.........cute hot."
My little four year-old says funny things all of the time too. The other day she asked me what I wanted to be when I grow up. Then I asked her. She said: "I want to be a....horse."
One day, someone filled an entire glass full of milk for the littlest boy. What? Then said older child decided she made a mistake after all. But it was too late. He sensed that his milk was about to be confiscated, so he ran like a banshee all the way from the dining room table to the study, leaving a trail of sloshing milk and sliding into home as it were on the milk as the glass went flying (not broken, whew!). Of course, we had to take a picture. Not the best, and you can see my messy house, but cest la vie.
Happy Thursday!
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