Getting out of the car this morning, I told him to be careful because he was wearing his flip-flops.  He slid, just a little, then said: That was a close one. Phew!

He yelled from downstairs (where he was alone with his brother and sister): Don't Worry Mommy!  Which translates to "Now is the time to panic."

Looking through a toy catalog: You should buy this for the babies to play with.  It was a large truck puzzle, something suitable for ages 4 and up.

Mommy, you need Mickey underwear like me. Let's get Daddy a pair too.

I'm four, Lexi is five, the babies are two.  Mommy, you are four too. 

I need all my friends to sleep with me.  By friends, he is referring to all of the stuffed animals and toys in his room.

Every night before bed: Sleep tight, take care, good nite-nite.  He actually came up with that one on his own.

Mommy works; grammy doesn't.  Then we had a long discussion about how taking care of grandkids while mommy and daddy go to work IS work!

I'm going to sleep in a tent with Daddy and Lexi.  In our backyard.  But not with bugs.

Popular posts from this blog

A Season of Change

The Cindy Tote - A Review

Two Years