I Can Count!

Even before the little Beast was old enough to speak, my mother and sister were trying to teach him to say "peace out dog" instead of goodbye. A few months ago their dedication finally paid off. Kind of. When departing, the little Beast now awkwardly holds up a random number of fingers and shouts out "two dogs", I guess because that's the number of fingers he thinks he's holding up. What a goofball!

Yogurt Facial.

Can't leave him alone for a second.

Attempted Fratricide

The day before yesterday, I made the little Beast some apple streudel toast for breakfast. He really liked it. When he ate the first bite, he said "Mmmm, Mmmmm, I love it!" I left him alone with the toast to go make my own breakfast. Moments later, he came running into the kitchen exclaiming, "Her got it out, her got it out!" I asked, "She got what out?" He took my hand and led me into the playroom where Beauty was lying on the floor, a big wad of toast next to her head. I asked the little Beast, "Did you put that in her mouth?" He responded proudly, "Yeah! And her got it out!" I guess he liked the toast so much, he couldn't resist sharing it with his 4-month-old sister. Thankfully, she managed to spit it out before she could choke on it. And the little beast is lucky he didn't choke on the knuckle sandwich I almost gave him to wash down his toast!

You Better Be Good For Goodness' Sake

Another couple of funnies from the mouth of Miss SmartyPants. She really started to question the extent of Santa's authority this past Christmas. She was very concerned about her status on Santa's list, which led to some pretty funny convos with her mommy. Here are two examples:

One evening, Miss SmartyPants was being Miss SmartyMouth. Mommy warned Miss SP that talking back might land her in hot water with Santa, and reminded her that Santa can see everything she does and hear everything she says. Miss SP shut her mouth momentarily, then spouted off, "Does he know what I'm thinking?"

Another evening during bathtime, Miss SmartyPants was acting up. Mommy SmartyPants warned that Santa was watching and might put Miss SP on his naughty list for her bad behavior. This was very upsetting to Miss SmartyPants so she settled right down. A moment later she asked, "Mommy can I whisper something to you?" (presumably so that Santa couldn't hear). She whispered into mommy's ear, "If Santa writes my name on the naughty list, do you think he'll put it in permanent marker?"

Let the Euphemisms Begin!

The other day I was changing the little Beast's diaper while talking on the phone with my sister. The little Beast reached down and started tugging and pulling on things that dangle "down there". He kept trying to interrupt my phone conversation to ask, "What these?" but I kept shushing him, telling him, "Not now, Mommy's on the phone." In truth, I didn't want to answer the question at all, especially since everything I learned in 7th Grade Health class had suddenly evaded the grasp of my memory. For the life of me, I could not remember the scientific term for the body part he was presently squeezing and squashing. I asked my sister desperately, "What should I tell him?" but she couldn't hear me over her own hysterical laughter. The Beast's questioning became louder and more insistent, flustering me until I snapped out, "They're your balls!" Oops, perhaps not the best answer, but it did at least shut him up. The Beast was quiet for a moment, considering my answer as he tilted his head to carefully study the appendage in question. Then he straightened up and announced brightly, "Yeah! They my footballs!"

Big Thoughts for a Little Thinker

I have a 6-year old cousin we'll call Miss SmartyPants. She is the sweetest, most precocious child I've ever known. She will surely make many appearances on this blog because of the funny things she says. Here is a favorite of mine:

One day while driving in the car, Miss SmartyPants' mommy was telling a story about her own childhood. This led to the following conversation:

Miss SP: Where was I when you were a little girl, mom?
Mommy: You weren't born yet.
Miss SP: I know, but where was I?
Mommy: I don't know.
Miss SP: (quietly) Heavens?
Mommy: Yes, I guess we start and end in Heaven.
Miss SP: Do you take an airplane to Heavens?
Mommy: No, the angels come and take you after you die. They take your soul.
Miss SP: Do you hang upside down?
Mommy: (really baffled, trying to figure her line of reasoning) No, honey, why would you hang upside down?
Miss SP: Well, if the angels take you by your soles, you'd be upside down, right?!?

Terror in the Skies

When I was 7 and my sister was 5, we traveled by plane to visit our father. Alone. Without a chaperone. Our behavior was so deplorable that, on our return home, an airline official met my mother at the gate to inform her we were banned from ever traveling that airline again. I don't remember exactly which act got us 86'ed from the friendly skies, but perhaps it had something to do with this:

A young girl traveling with her mother was seated in front of us. Throughout the flight she kept turning around to brag about the various toys, snacks and activities her mother brought along to entertain her. My sister's irritation and envy built with every mile of that trip, finally reaching it's breaking point when the girl pushed her sparkling pink My Little Pony under sister's nose and asked, "Do you like my pony?"

Sister replied with a smirk, "Sure, your pony's pretty, but your mama's ugly!"

Easy. Breezy. Beautiful.

{Almost} Wordless Wednesday
See those marks on the little Beast's left cheek? He drew them with the Moonlit Mauve lipstick he swiped out of Grandma's makeup bag. Three days ago. Of course he would use the long-lasting, 16-hour lip color that promises to stay on even if you decide to drink nuclear waste. We've tried soap, makeup remover, baby oil, even non-toxic nail polish remover. No amount of scrubbing will get rid of it. Cover Girl claims their lip color is "food, kiss and workout-proof". Too bad it's not child-proof!

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

The other day as I was getting out of the shower, the little Beast came running into the bathroom covered in goo up to his elbows. He thrust his hands toward me and said with pride lighting up his face, "Look, Mommy, I got shampoo!" On closer inspection, I noticed the goo covered not only his hands and arms, but was rubbed in his hair as though he had tried to wash with it. I knew whatever the slimy substance was, it couldn't be shampoo, as all our bottles had been safe in the shower with me. I asked the little Beast to show me where he'd found this "shampoo," so he led me into my own bedroom to the far side of my unmade bed, and opened the drawer to my nightstand. Then he reached into the drawer and with a triumphant flourish handed me ... An empty bottle of KY Jelly!

"See, Mom, shampoo!" he gleefully shrieked as I fell onto the goo-covered bed laughing hysterically.