My son and I were driving home from work/daycare.
"Mommy," he started.
(Now, first, I must explain something. Parker uses the phrase "last year" to explain anything that has happened before, whether it was 5 minutes ago or last night.)
"Last year, I had fog in my throat!"
"A frog?" I asked.
"No, FOG. From Daddy's fart!"
Parker had been taking too long in the bathroom.
"Parker, what are you doing?!" I shouted to check on him.
"I'm touching my poo poo!"
(Of course, I dreaded the mess that could await me on the other side of that bathroom door. I opened the door, looked in, saw no mess, and my boy was standing there with his finger in his butt. Whew. Much easier to deal with. He washed those hands good to a chorus of, "We don't touch poo poo! We don't touch poo poo in our butt. Yucky!" These are the words of wisdom you can get around here.)
"Mommy, do you like to hear my voice in the world?" Parker asked one day while we were in the backyard.
I thought, What a cute kind of question.
I said, "Yes, of course, I love-"
"AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!" He screamed at the top of his lungs.
"Oh, okay, I got ya. OK, THAT'S ENOUGH SCREAMING!"
Wasn't so cute anymore.