Yeah, okay, so I’m Art Linkletter all of a sudden. But my kids crack me up. Here’s one from a few years back:
My son was about 2 years old, and was still relatively new to the whole “talking in complete sentences” thing. He came out of his playroom and asked me what was for breakfast:
“Waffles” I replied.
“WHAT?” he gasped. “NOOOO! Me scared of waffles!”
I was stunned. “You’re what?”
“I’m scared of waffles! Me no want waffles!”
“Sweetie, I don’t understand. Are you saying you’re scared of waffles?”
He nodded.
“That doesn’t make any sense!”
We went back and forth like this for several minutes. Finally he got an idea and ran to his bedroom. He came back with a large book. Sitting me down, he thumbed through the book until he found what he was looking for.
“There!” he said, pointing to a large, ugly picture of a…
walrus.
I had to fight really hard not to laugh. “Honey, that’s a walrus. We’re not having walrus for breakfast. We’re having waffles.”
“Oh.”
As I went off, chuckling, to the kitchen to cook breakfast, I heard him whispering to himself, “Me no scared of waffles. Me scared of walruses.”
(And this is my 200th post. So there.)
I don’t remember the context in which it came up, but at one point, someone asked my son, then about 2 years old, what a pyramid was. His answer is that “it’s when Mommy’s belly hurts.”
He’s 4 now, and has quite a few other gems, but that one sticks out in my mind.
My little nephew, about 3 or 4 at the time. My sister tells me she was watching him play in the backyard with some neighborhood kids. Well, she looked up and saw him whomping a little girl over the head with one of those floppy foam baseball bats.
My 3.5 yr old son has been potty training for the past couple of weeks. My wife was recently pregnant and we had been telling him that the baby was in mommy’s tummy. Well, after she had the baby, we explained to my son that the baby was no longer inside mommy’s tummy.
When my son was 3, Toy Story had just come out and he had a Woody doll. Strolling through the playground, he happened to ask a stranger “Hey lady, wanna play with my woody?”
[prologue]My 3 year old was at the gorcery store with Dh and she managed to break a dozen eggs while ‘helping’. He didn’t yell, but she freaked out anyway.[/prologue]
Dh is going away soon for the first time and I was trying to talk to her about it. I asked her why he was leaving and she said “Daddy is angry at me, I broke the eggs.” It was funny, but kind of sad too.
One of my fondest memories of my youngest sister (I have three, all younger) is her about 3 - running down the beach with all fury trying desperately to catch a bird and screaming “pecalins !! pecalins !!” at the top of her lungs.
We are all very glad she did not succeed in her mission.
She is now 15 and hates it when I bring it up, so of course I do so often.
My husband is in the car with our 2 oldest. To pass the time, the 10yo is reading and the 7yo is asking riddles from a joke book. 7yo is being his usual nit-picky self and insisting that Daddy’s answers are wrong if they aren’t given exactly as written. The 10yo, who never passes up an opportunity to annoy her younger brother, starts arguing with him.
10yo: He did so get it right. He doesn’t have to say it exactly the way the book does.
7yo: Yes he does. It says so right here.
10yo: Where?
7yo: Under this sticker. You can’t read it.
10yo: How can you read it, then?
7yo: I have x-ray vision.
10yo: (holding her book in front of her hand) Oh yeah, which finger am I holding up?
My daughter was sitting on the couch next to me when my wife came in. Mrs. Nipples sat on my lap. After a few moments, she reached across me to get something she needed.
I guess it looked kind of suggestive because my daughter says…“Mommy, are you humping Dad?”
Years and years ago, when going to a restaurant was kind of a treat because of us kids’ questionable behavior, my brother, then maybe five or six, decided to order a steak.
The waitress says: “How do you want it?”
My brother stares at her, mystified.
My grandmother prompts him: “Medium?”
Comprehension dawns on my brother’s face. He turns to the waitress and says with utter confidence:
“Small.”
Hilarity ensued.
It doesn’t take much for a seven-year-old big brother (me) to feel smugly superior to his younger sibling, which is probably why this otherwise insignificant moment has stuck with me for so long…
Background: when my brother was around 3 years old, we went on trip to England to visit my mother’s family. My uncle is the stereotypical snooty, upper-crust Englishman: very proper and uptight.
One day, in the middle of a picnic, my brother says, “Uncle Ron, what’s a jockstrap?” My uncle was horrified at the thought of having to answer that question, when my brother pipes up, “Oh, I know. It’s where you keep your tentacles.” Everyone began howling with laughter.
This reminded me of when my sister was about three years old. My dad was sitting on the couch and my sister snatched a screwdriver off the table nearby, walked up to my father and proclaimed, “Daddy, I’m gonna screw you!”
I must have been 8 or 9, and was with my mother at some party where there were folks who didn’t know each other. A lady came up to me and asked, “And who do you belong to?” Completely indignant, I replied, “I don’t belong to anybody!”
When I was about four or five I went to the doctor’s with my mom for a bladder infection. After going through the whole thing of getting me to pee in the bottle, my mom had to go, so she did then we went to wait for the results. Of course, as soon as we got to the waiting room I turned to her.
