Aviana, age 9, bursts into the bathroom where I’m, ahem, doing bathroom things.
“MAMA!” she bellows, “Mama!”
“What?!”alarmed, I am forced to answer, wondering why I can’t seem to remember to ALWAYS lock the door.
“Stamps are now 49 cents!”
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Cadrian, age 5, to our chiropractor.
Did you buy that table put togevvewr awweady or did it come in a box and you put it togevvewr?
I bought it put together already.
*pause, thinking this over*
When you die, can I have it?
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Cadrian, as we’re driving to the park:
Can we go swimming?
No, not today.
Can we go to a friend’s house?
No, not today.
Can we go to that park?
No, that’s a school, we can’t go there until the schoolchildren go home.
Can we go to that park? (indicating the one we’re heading to)
Yes! Yes we can!
UGH! NO! I don’t want to!
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Denton, 3, riding his tractor around and around the lawn chair where I’m sitting outside.
“Know what I hate?”
“What?” I respond, internally exasperated to hear another thing this kid hates.
“When you’re sitting down wifout me.”