Sunday, June 27, 2010

Out of the mouthes of babes

The other day when my four-year-old got up from the table and ran to the bathroom. "I have to go potty!."
"Good job making it in time", I call over my shoulder as I continue to make dinner.
"Well, I tinkle a yittle bit in my pants."
"Oh, I'm sorry, that's ok though you made it I'm proud of you", I call over my shoulder distractedly.
"And there's a yittle poops too."
"In your pants?" I say trying not to let the 'You have to be kidding me!' come out in my voice.
"No, in my butt!" he calls back so innocently that I fall to the kitchen floor heaving with laughter. Just where exactly did I think poop came from?


Our four-year-old bravely gave up his pacifier last week so after four days going cold turkey with only one minor withdraw incident we set out for Toys R Us to get a prize. We went for a Bobcat. Not the animal, the digger that "weally works". After much looking and talking with his seven-year-old brother we came home with a Deluxe Chain Saw and goggles. Now just to remind you, we were at Toys R Us, so there is no chance of this being real. However, by the time we got it home and out of the box it had morphed into the real thing. So both boys head out to the back yard to cut down a tree that had been bothering the seven-year-old, and then I hear it- screaming. Thinking they are fighting over the new toy I head out to see the little one in tears. I stand there for a minute trying to compose myself so that I don't end up pulling a Wal-Mart parenting moment when I hear the problem.
"If you don't hold the tree it will fall on me and I will get dead!"
"It can't fall on you pooper it's not real."
"It is real and the tree will hurt me!"
God love him, he was just trying to be safe.

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