Child, pushing an empty cardboard tape roll into my back: This means it's overcooked.
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I think we should make a new Planet Earth and launch it into space and buy space suits and jump to it and turn our car into a space car.
The child (who sometimes uses the stove) just locked the stove before driving his dinosaur truck over it.
Child, leg and arm draped over my shoulders, watching me wash ginger: Um, that's a corn brush!
Me: A corn brush?
Child: Yeah, it can only be used for corn and carrots.
Me: I guess it can be used for ginger, too.
Child, pelting me with paper balls from a magazine we told him he could rip apart: Malfunction. Malfunction. Malfunction. Malfunction. Malfunction. Malfunction. Malfunction. Malfunction. Malfunction. Malfunction. Malfunction. Malfunction. Malfunction. Malfunction. Malfunction. Malfunction. Malfunction. Malfunction. Malfunction. Malfunction. Malfunction.
Child: Shut your mouth. Shut your fucking mouth.
Dada: That's not nice.
Child: Go play with a toy, Dada!
Us: *laughs*
Dada: That's nice.
Child: Go play with your penis, Dada!
Us: *stifled laughs*
Child: Go play with your penis, Mama!
Us: *uncontrollable laughter*
Child: Where is my saw and screwdriver?
Me: Where did you put them?
Child: Nowhere.
Me: Then they must be nowhere.
Child: Blow up this balloon as big as our house.
Me: It will break if I blow it up too big.
Child: OK, then blow it up as big as your bobs.
Child: *climbs in kitchen cabinet, talks*
Me: Gabby's Dollhouse is too loud, I can't hear you.
Child: Come save me!
Me: Gabby's Dollhouse is too loud, I can't hear you.
Child: Turn it down!
Me: Gabby's Dollhouse is too loud, I can't hear you.
Child: Turn it down!
Me: Gabby's Dollhouse is too loud, I can't hear you.
Child: Turn it down!
Me: Gabby's Dollhouse is too loud, I can't hear you.
Child: Turn it down!
I showed him how to do a crayon rubbing. Now he's doing it on everything including me.
I thought I could wear three shirts. To wear three shirts, I will need three underwears and three pantses.
Child: *takes out measuring spoons.* I have an idea. Let's put these here and here and here, and then the fly will decide to get on one and we will kill it! That's why I'm leaving them all around the room, all around the place!
Me: You can have your weapons back after I floss and brush your teeth.
Child: Weapons! Weapons! Weapons!
Kid: I think my friend needs to be in the trash because I don't like him anymore. *Tosses in worn-out mousepad that I told him he could throw away an hour ago but he decided to play with first.*
Kid: I want whipped cream on mushrooms.
Me: You'll have to prepare the mushrooms first.
Kid: *Washes two mushrooms, cooks them, tells me to eat the small one, eats the big one, forgets about whipped cream, dumps crackers on me as I'm typing* Oh no, not a cracker shower!
Kid: I want a sandwich that has bread and whipped cream and nothing else.
Me: Finish your mayonnaise and applesauce sandwich first.
Mama, I programmed this toilet paper roll to be a cool robot that could go on water or on land, and he also has swim mode!
>.>
i got scared
Husband: *caresses my shoulder* You can help me break in the new bed.
Kid: *scratches my other shoulder* You can break MY bed!
The child is sitting on the toilet honking his rubber chicken and scolding it for not being quiet in the library . . . "I think my chicken friend farted." -
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