We were on a crowded flight from Vancouver to Toronto, and not far out of the city we ran into some totally unexpected turbulence. Everyone else on the flight made that ‘Aaaugh’ kinda noise as the plane dropped a couple hundred feet, and my daughter, almost two at the time, says “Whee!” Big laughs, tension broken, rest of the flight goes just fine.
A couple of weeks ago, we were watching the DVDs of the Flintstones, when my son (5) says to me -“Daddy, who made the Flintstones?” “Well, it was Hanna - Barbera, the same people who made the Jetsons and Scooby-Doo.” Pause, then, in a awed whisper “He must be - a genius!”
My husband was in the mood one Saturday morning, but the kids were rampaging around the house, so he took them to visit the grandparents who live only a few minutes drive away, then once they were settled playing there, snuck out and back to me.
We were just in the throes of passion when the phone rang by the bed. I told hub to ignore it, but it rang and rang and rang and rang until he could bear it no more and picked it up.
It was my older son on the other end: “Why did you go back home, Daddy? We’re bored and Baachan wants to go out…” Hub told him he’d be back in a minute and hung up.
About half a minute later the phone began to ring again. This time we ignored it. It finally stopped, which was a relief because we were nearly at the peak of our exertions, but then his cell phone began to ring!
With a very rude word, hub rolled over to answer it, and in ringing tones that I could hear from across the bed, my outraged son demanded “When are you going to COME, Daddy???”
[QUOTE=Eleanor of Aquitaine]
My son was two the first time we took him Trick-or-Treating. I’d ring the doorbell, and when the resident came to the door my son would present his little plastic pumpkin and say clearly, “Put it in the bucket.”
The next Halloween he insisted on removing his mask at every house and introducing himself, after he got his treat. He seemed to be concerned about getting candy on false pretenses - that people might think he was really Buzz LightYear.
[/QUOTE] I think I’ve mentioned that one of the only trick-or-treaters we got at our house this year was a very young miss dressed up as a cat, who, when I joked that we already had too many kitties in our house, looked up at me very earnestly and said, “I’m not really a kitty.”
As we were leaving the house, my son reminded me to bring my cell phone – and he’s so earnest about it, “What if that man who might be the president has a question and wants to call you?”
[QUOTE=fessie]
As we were leaving the house, my son reminded me to bring my cell phone – and he’s so earnest about it, “What if that man who might be the president has a question and wants to call you?”
[/QUOTE]
Which man is he talking about, and why does he think you have that kind of access and influence?
[QUOTE=chappachula]
In my family, the 4 year old had her own rules.
She took you by the hand, led you to a corner behind the couch, and told you to hide there.
Then she ran out of the room, came back a few seconds later, and found you.
[/QUOTE]
That’s pretty well exactly what my 2 year old son does. There is only one “legitimate” hiding spot in the house - behind the fridge. Hide anywhere else and he will solemly take you by the hand and escort you to that spot, push you in place, and say “Hide there!”. Then run around the house and find you - shrieking with laughter.
[QUOTE=ivylass] snip I think I’ve shared this one before, but one morning, I’m stumbling around the kitchen getting ready for work, and Ivylad is making coffee. Ivyboy is eating his cereal when he looks up suspiciously and asks, “Dad, did you and mom have sex last night?”
I whipped my head around, shocked, as Ivylad asks, “Why do you ask?”
“Well, you’re in a good mood and mom’s tired.” snip
[/QUOTE] Ivylass, you owe me a keyboard!
The cutest, and perhaps oddest, thing my son has said is I think that period when he was about 1 1/2. We went to the museum to see an exhibit of Chimu artifacts from Peru. One of these artifacts was a giant gold mask of a staring chief or diety - very large and imposing.
My son was fascinated by it - he stared at it for a while. Then, enlightenment dawned. He pointed at it and said, in a loud voice, “Daddy!”.
Some other patrons were practically peeing themselves.
My son seems to think that my hair is its own entity. He’ll wake up in the morning and say, “Hi, Mommy!” with a huge grin on his face. Then he’ll turn to my hair and say, “Hi, hair!” Sometimes he’ll even wave to it or say “C’mere, hair!” when he wants to run his fingers through it.
I’m so glad to see this thread on a day that started with my 2 year old pulling my hair because, instead of walking to the car, she wanted to play in the yard and I had to end up carrying her to the car. She’s also being a bully to a large 3 year old at daycare lately.
She still manages to be cute, though. She’s learned to count to 10 in the last few months. The babysitter tries to get her to pick up her toys and come to the table for lunch. One day she just sat there, so the babysitter started counting…1, 2, 3 (like you would as a threat of sorts)…and Little Bunny continued…4, 5, 6…
She loves to sing to herself lately and she never sings actual words, but it’s really cute. The other night, she was standing on a box with string cheese in her hand, which she was using as a microphone, while she swayed and babbled some “lyrics”.
And to add to the pirate theme here, I gave her an empty toilet paper roll and she immediately put it to her eye and said “Mommy, I pie-yate!”
I don’t know how she knows to do this, but one day, I was scolding her for something and suddenly she made a fish face (with the pursed lips). She did it with such gusto and with wide eyes. It took us by surprise and we laughed harder at that than anything she’s ever done.
Our daughter (who is 3) launched a real zinger a couple of days ago. She had grabbed hold of her mother’s sweater in her teeth and was pulling on it. Mom said, “Don’t pull on things with your teeth, or you’ll end up looking like a buck-toothed hillbilly.” Without missing a beat, daughter replies, “Like you, mommy!” It was perfect. The wife and I were both rendered helpless with laughter.
[QUOTE=Eleanor of Aquitaine]
My son was two the first time we took him Trick-or-Treating. I’d ring the doorbell, and when the resident came to the door my son would present his little plastic pumpkin and say clearly, “Put it in the bucket.”
The next Halloween he insisted on removing his mask at every house and introducing himself, after he got his treat. He seemed to be concerned about getting candy on false pretenses - that people might think he was really Buzz LightYear.
[/QUOTE]
That’s adorable. The first year my son went Trick-or-Treating (he was also 2), he spent the first half of it rather confused. He would accept candy from the person giving it out, but also put the candy he had gotten at the previous house into the basket of goodies they were giving out. It was like he was on some weird Candy Exchange program. By the end, though, he had figured it out and, when his sister and her friends were yelling “Trick-or-Treat”, he would just yell, “Caaaaaannnnndy!”
My twins first Trick-or-Treat they were about 20 months’ old, so just little littles. I dressed them up as bumblebees.
As we prepared to leave we told our kids to get their pumpkins - by which we meant, those pumpkin-shaped trick-or-treat bags.
But my son heard “pumpkin” so we went and got his pumpkin, the one he’d picked at a pick-your-own pumpkin patch the week beforehand. AND WOULD NOT LET GO of it.
Hysterics ensued.
So you know what - that’s what he carried, all night long.
I’ve got one on my nephew. Again, I think I’ve shared it before, but it’s a classic.
Some relatives were visiting from Scotland, and they had a little girl about a year younger than my nephew. Now, as all red-blooded American males are, my nephew was quite taken with this bonnie Scottish lass and followed her around like a little puppy.
Her father, seeing this interaction, began teasing my nephew about how he would only allow his daughter to marry a rich man. My nephew chewed this over, ran into his room…and came out carrying his piggybank.
