Out of the Mouths of Babes

One of The Manimal’s newest hobbies is jumping. As in, from one sofa to the other, down the stairs, from the ottoman to the floor. You get the picture. When he jumps, he hollers, “O-PAH!” As is the case with many Americans, my children have a variety of ethnicities in their family tree. Greek, however, is not one of them.

Both Sweet Son #1 and The Manimal have sweet, chubby, pinchable cheeks. The kind you want to “eat up”. When I cuddled The Manimal and nibbled on his cheeks, saying “I’m going to eat you up!”, he shook his finger sternly and said “Mom, I not food!”

Overheard from back seat of the family car: “Manimal, say ‘you’re a psycho!” And, of course, the reply, “SS#1, you a psy-cho!” Sigh.

Near the end of the school year, SS#1 was recapping his day. I asked what he had done in math class, and he got really excited. “Mom, we learned time today!” I was slightly baffled, and said “Didn’t you learn how to tell time earlier this year?” He rolled his eyes and said “No, MOM! We learned TIME, like two TIME two is four!”

Being the second child, The Manimal speaks extremely well. Full sentences, big words, the whole nine yards. He only needs to hear a word once before it becomes a regular part of his vocabulary. He came downstairs on Saturday and informed me that he’d made GINORMOUS poop.

Motherhood is so educational.

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