I like to talk... a lot, so it stands to reason that my children do too. And boy, do they. Allthedamntime. They say things like:
Sprinkles: "MOOOOoooom!"
(I have been down graded from "mommy" to just "mom" recently. You are 2... really?) Anyway... I digress. It goes something like this. *AHEM*
"Mom! Poop! Hand, hand, HAND!"
Aaaaand she doesn't mean "give me a hand"...
Aaaaand she doesn't mean "give me a hand"...
OR
Sass: "Touch me, Mom. I don't think I'm real."
OR
After the arrival of TBL, we fielded a veritable avalanche of questions from Sass concerning his little sister. He would sit and watch me change her and ask about everything from the color of her poop to what that crusty thing on her belly button was. I was rather proud of my pre-k friendly explanation of the umbilical cord and he seemed to really get it. He got it so well, in fact, that the next time it was time for a diaper change he streaked into the room yelling "Hey Mom! I wanna see her charger!"
Yeah... sort of.
OR
Any time I ask Sprinkles to do anything, and I mean ANYTHING, she squints her eyes menacingly at me and yells "NEVER!" but like an old, grizzled sea dog so it comes out more like "NEVAH!". And then she growls like a raid raccoon... Yeah, I don't know either.
AAAAAND
Sass was chasing after a red balloon today yelling "Balogna Sandwich!" at the top of his lungs. That is quite a battle cry, little man.
It be a loquacious house, ya'll.
*sigh* I'm tired...
;)
