Recent boyisms include, but are not limited to, the following:
I had to take my two year old into the dressing room while I tried something on recently. I did my best to not be entirely and 100% visible to him but he managed to pop up and turn around in his stroller and have a gander at what I was trying on and he said, “Wow! You hit the jackpot Mom!”
To this I responded, “You funny little boy! Where did you hear that?”
“From the news!” was his reply.
“You listen to the news? (!!)”
“Yeah!! I do!”
While at the dinner table we were discussing what Grandpa’s Mii will look like if he decides to play the Wii when he comes here for a visit. There came a discussion about his facial hair (Grandpa likes to be clean shaven.) My six year old observed, “Uncle Phil has more of a beard than Grandpa.”
I answered, “That’s because I think Uncle Phil likes to grow his for a couple of days before shaving it sometimes and Grandpa shaves almost every day.”
The very existential response of my six year old Philosopher was, “That’s howcome nobody knows he has a beard.”
Whoa, folks… this one is deep. I have to ruminate on that for a day or two. Because he has a point. There’s a beard under that skin to be sure…. Deep stuff. Jack Handy kind of stuff. Excuse me while I go do some Yoga to meditate on this point for a bit.
My two year old recently came up to me and said, “You want a piece of me Mama?”
Apparently my older boys tell me that he got it from Toy Story. And here I thought he was thinking of becoming a career gang banger. Silly me.
We are trying to be more organized for Sunday mornings by having the boys pick out their clothes and lay them out the night before. Tonight my four year old showed me his fail-safe plan. He had laid out his pants with the underwear tucked perfectly inside of them, as if his pants were the opening scene of a Left Behind movie. (Don’t get me started on those btw.) He smiled with pride at his ingenuity.
One day this week while at a grocery store my “baby” was feeling quite crabby, not having had a decent nap that day, he was moaning and wailing and repeatedly taking his shoes off as we went through the store. This wasn’t a tantrum though. It was more the bemoaning of everything being wrong with the world (picture despondent, mournful and woeful tones). “Ohhh…. I want to go hoooooome. This store is baaaaad. Are those poisonous apples Mom?”
(laughing) “No honey, the store doesn’t sell poisonous apples.”
“Ohhhh, Okaaaayyyy.” (more mournful groans of self pity.)
He has also been using this “poisonous” thing at home whenever begging for a snack. My kids always want to eat snacks right before dinner (I’m guessing most kids are this way). Because I want them to eat their dinner I have a no snacking after 4:00 policy. So he has come begging for snacks right before dinner and when I respond in the negative, his response is almost always (again, very mournfully) “But whyyyyyyyy? It’s not poisonous!”
Last Sunday we had a new family from church over for dinner. We were having a lovely meal together. The Mom sat next to my littlest guy and very graciously helped him with his meal. She had a couple of onions pushed to the side of her plate and my two year old inquired, “Aren’t you going to eat your onions?”
She answered that she liked onions a little but not a lot so she wasn’t going to eat them. He answered, “But they’re good for you!”
She looked over at his plate and noticed a pile of onions and she inquired of him, “Are you going to eat yours?”
“They aren’t good for me,” was his very straight faced response.