From the mouths of babes...

So I picked up the chicklets (my name for my daughters) from the sitters this afternoon and drove home…

I was just parking the van and Alex (who is 5) says, "Do you remember the people who used to live there? (she points at the townhouse across from ours).

I said, “Do you mean Creston and his mom?”

Creston and his mom moved away about 6 months ago. He’s now about 3 and is one of the cutest little guys I have ever seen. Our girls adored him and would play together all the time.

So the Princess says “Yes… (long pause)… Dad… I know that friends aren’t forever.”

Good god… the look on her face was so sad when she said this I almost started crying.

From the mouths of babes…

My 3 year old cheerfully likes pretending he’s wearing a gas mask and hiding from terrorists.

My 5-year-old called my father an asshole.

He deserved it, though :smiley:

Uh, yeah.

You know, I’ve got the number for this good psychologist…

I was six before I called my dad this. He was laughing so hard he almost couldn’t punish me. From what I understand, he called both my mom and my aunt to share the moment. Took away my radio for a week. Yeah, great idea, dad :rolleyes:


Inky-, I don’t know if you know this or not, but Japan has already suffered at least one nerve gas attack. Sounds like the kid’s got a good grip on reality if you ask me.

I don’t know what’s more adorable, the thing about friends or the fact that you call your girls chicklets.

Every time my 3 yr old son sees R Lee Ermey he waves hi to “Numbnuts”

When my daughter was three I was driving her home.
I asked, “Which came first, the chicken or the egg?”
She said, “The chicken.”
So then I said, “But where did the chicken come from?”
She said, “The egg.”
So I asked, “Where did the egg come from?”
She said, “Her butt.
I almost drove off the road.

I take a mid afternoon break every work day to extract the chicklets from the sitters and take them home.

After they’re buckled up I am usually ordered to “rock and roll”. They like their classic rock (played loud) on the drive home and usually do air guitar solos and play invisible drums to the music. This is the best part of the day except when I FINALLY get to come home and tuck in the chicklets.

When my five year old is asked her name she says it in it’s entirety and then adds “snuggle-bunny” to the end while our three year old adds “cuddle-bug”.

Our five year old was explaining things to us at dinner yesterday and said that you couldn’t point your middle finger at people… just things. I made the mistake of saying that you could only do that when a person was old enough to drive.

I’m such a bad influence on our kids…

My adoptive granddaughter Amanda, now ten but nine when this story happens, is not permitted to swear. However, her father’s standard usage for an emphatic negative is “Not only No but Hell No.” She’s a redhead with a very amiable personality but a hot temper.

She was given a pet rabbit, with cage, water bottle, and all appropriate rabbitkeeping paraphenalia. She was debating what to name him aloud, with unhelpful hints from her little brothers. Her father suggested “Haasenpfeffer.”

She asked, “What does that mean?”
“Look it up.”

Next day, she leaves for school, looks up the meaning of “haasenpfeffer” in the school library, and comes home after school.

Walking in, she confronts her dad. Arms akimbo, face red as her hair, she says, “You remember ‘Haasenpfeffer’?”
“Yeah – like the name?” (with a grin)
“Not only no, but Hell No!”

He said he really should have disciplined her, but he was laughing too hard. :smiley:

petcat -

I can understand why you could have very easily lost control of the car… that’s hilarious.

My son learned about raccoons at school, and why the black around their eyes is protective coloring at night.

“Why do raccoons have masks?”
“To protect them from their enemas.”

Aaron doesn’t talk yet, of course, but he has been known to flirt with the players on the bench at his Aunt Soccerbaby’s basketball games. He loves his wimmens, all right. :slight_smile:


We had an elderly cat that would pee on anything my son left in the floor. After she got sick and died, I planned on waiting a long time before getting another cat. After several weeks of being catless, he saw a cat on TV:

Son: “Awww look at the kitty”
Me: “Do you want another kitty?”
Son: “Yes, a yellow one.”
Me: “Do you want a baby cat or a big cat?”
Son: “A baby cat.”
Me: “A boy or a girl?”
Son: “A boy”
Me: “What are you going to name the kitty?”
Son: “Ronny”
Me: “Okay, we may get one”
After a long pause
Son: “Mama, you better get kitty some Pull-Ups”

Ohhhhhhhhhh KAWAII! hillbilly queen, that’s the cutest thing EVER!

Mrs. Maroon was down to 126 pounds, which meant a trip to find some clothes that would fit her new physique. She came across a pair of slacks that she fell in love with, but they didn’t have her new size. They had her old size and she was debating whether or not to buy them and have them altered. About this time, our five year old wandered back into the conversation.
Dumplin’: “What’s wrong mommy?”
Mommy: “I really like these pants, but they’re too big”
Dumplin’: “Don’t worry, you’ll grow into them”

This isn’t my kid, but the grandkid of a friend. They’ve been taking her to Mass with them since she was little and she’s four now. She’s not allowed to go up for Communion, but she’s apparently been listening, because as her grandmother came back to the pew this morning to sit next to her, Ash reached into her graham cracker box, pulled one out, and handed it to her grandmother, saying very seriously “The Body of Christ.”

Gettin’ em early in the Catholic Church…


I’m cracking up over the “chicken/egg” story.

A couple years ago I was visiting my parents and my brother and his wife arrived for a visit with their kids. They spent the night and the next day we were all discussing entertainment/excursion options and it was decided we’d attend a local estate auction.

My nephew Carter (I think about 3 at the time) came barreling into the room at about this time and my brother told him to get his shoes on and get ready to go. Carter asked “where are we going?” and my brother said “We’re going to a big house full of crappy junk!” Carter’s face crumpled and said “Daddy, I don’t want to go home!”

Hands down, that’s the funniest thing I’ve read all day.