Me: Say bye bye to Harris Teeter!
Baby T: I can’t say bye bye to Harris Teeter.
Me: Why not?
Baby T: It doesn’t have a mouth. It doesn’t have a head!
Baby T was playing with a tennis ball in the house and the dog kept wanting to take it from him. Finally, Baby T put the ball on the kitchen counter and told the dog, “It’s time out, Sully. You can’t take ball from me so it’s in time out.”
Baby T: Nice sweeping, mom.
Me: Thanks.
Baby T: Nice vacuuming, mom.
Me: Thanks.
Baby T: Nice crying, Mason.
Baby T: How was work, Dada?
Big T: Um, good I guess. It was fun.
Baby T: I love fun.
One day, the kitchen table was covered with my sewing stuff (as usual), and Baby T said, “I want to do a project. Mommy, clean up your mess.”
Big T was in the bathroom, and Baby T was trying to pound down the door.
Baby T: Daddy!
Me: Baby T, Daddy’s going potty. Give him some privacy.
(Baby T isn’t really familiar with the term “privacy.” He thought I said “surprise.”)
Baby T: (Banging on the bathroom door) Surprise, Daddy! Surprise!
Baby T: Oh my gosh, you’re in my way!
The kids were sick and coughing, sneezing, and sniffling.
Big T: Poor guys!
Baby T: I’m not a poor guy!
Baby T: Mason can’t talk like I do.
Baby T said, out of the blue: Daddy, why did you say dammit? (Daddy had not said anything of the sort. We’re a little nervous that all the swears we have said around Baby T have compounded and are going to come back to haunt us now.)
Me (standing in front of the open fridge): Where are the mason jars?
Big T: They are in the garage.
Me: No, we don’t have any out there anymore. Where are they?
Baby T (pointing at the baby food jars in the fridge): Here!!
Me: No, not those, Baby T. Ty—where did you say they are?
Baby T: Here, mommy. HERE!!
Me: No, I’m looking for different jars.
Baby T: But here are the Mason jars!
Of course. Baby T was pointing to Mason’s baby food jars. Mason's jars. Smart kid.
Baby T: (in the backseat of the car, babbling away. My mind was elsewhere. I get home, stop the car, go to his door, open it.) “So that’s the deal, mommy.” (said with conviction).
Me: What’s the deal?
Baby T: Poop.
Baby T: (out of the blue). Mommy, I want to ride either in a fire truck, or…. (thinks) in a police car.
Baby T: Mom! Stop! That hurts my ears!
Me: What hurts your ears?
Baby T: Your mad face!
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5 comments:
Love this! My favorite was both "Surprise!" and the one about Mason's jars!
So funny!! These are my favorite things.
But, that last one, about your "mad face" is my absolute favorite!!
Aren't they brilliant?
love it!
These are hilarious! The first is my favorite, but privacy/surprise is pretty great, too, and answering a question with, "poop" totally sounds like something mine would do!
the poop one made me laugh out loud. thanks. :)
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