Two screamed by my wife:
“Quit swinging that snake!”
“DO NOT blow your nose on your brother’s arm!”
My personal favorite said (ok, yelled) to me by my father:
“Where the F*** did you learn to talk like that?”
Expect the worst, that way you’re never disappointed.
My son’s not quite ten months old, so I don’t have any really good ones. These are the best I can do so far:
“Books are not for eating.”
“How can you be so happy with a poop this big and stinky in your diaper?”
“No, you really can’t eat your entire foot.”
And, my favorite, said during a diaper change:
“Please don’t rub Bunny on your penis!”
-astraeus
So parents, I think the important thing we can learn here is that the next time your kids are driving you crazy, you can step back and take comfort from these words, “at least they’re not inserting grapes into the dog’s anus.”
I used to watch my friend’s son (he was 2 at the time) all the time. I had to take him to lots of meetings with me and stuff. Some of the more memorable ones I recall:
“No, that’s not a doggie, it’s a woman. Don’t call women dogs.”
“Is that your shoe in the garbage can?”
“Stop sucking on my boob, I’m not dinner!”
And my favorite: “Daddy doesn’t want to hear about your peepee right now, he’s giving a Very Important Talk.”
When we were children we would incur injuries–minor cuts, bruises, scrapes, etc. Just ordinary injuries in the course of our playing. We could always count on Mom saying, “It’ll feel better when it stops hurting”. Always wanted to say, “No shit, Mom”, but THAT would have been a disaster.
there’s a book called The Egypt Game that i’d recommend to your daughter. i remember loving it when i was young.
i don’t have any kids of my own, thank god (i’m 19), but i can remember my parents always threatening to sell my brother and i back to the indians if we didn’t behave. not that i ever took that seriously, but in retrospect, it seems so rediculous…
I have asked my children to put this one on my tombstone when the time comes…
I am NOT a piece of playground equipment!
and this one goes on theirs…
If you would just do what you are told, when you are told, your life would be so much easier.
You may have more applesauce when you’ve finished your donut!
(followed 1.5 seconds later by, “What am I saying? Have all the apple sauce you want!”)
Persephone,
My grandson (3.25) thought he was Buzz Lightyear, and tried to fly last weekend. Wedged himself between couch and chair. “Help, Gramma!” I unwedged, and he said, dejectedly, “I can’t fly very long, yet}”
WARNING: Some may take offense at what my mother used to say to me: “If you don’t mind me, I’m gonna give you away to the first nigger mammy that says, ‘Hey!’”
Mama has since become more enlightened.
I’ve downloaded the first ten pages of this thread to take with me to my mother’s and then my mother-in-law’s houses on Thanksgiving. I’ve a feeling they’ll have a few doozies for me to add to this thread…
Patty
Just said tonight to my daughter:
“I know you like to pretend you’re a kitty, but please stop licking your brother.”
I have weird kids.
The other night my hubby and I were travelling to spend the weekend with some friends. Hubby and pal were planning to spend the weekend bowhunting and so we had his bow in the backseat, next to our 21 month old son. It was mostly out of his reach (I think that the only place FULLY out of his reach is the ceiling), but he could grab the arrows’ fletching and thus twang the arrows (those damn things aren’t cheap–and can be bent fairly easily). About the millionth time we told him to leave the arrows alone, my hubby says, “Boy, I’m gonna knock your nuts loose!” I was helpless with laughter for MILES after that–and so was dear hubby!!
It’s a good thing that our kids know we don’t really mean the outrageous threats we make–some of them would otherwise have them in a panic! 
Don’t you throw up! Don’t you DARE throw up!
I don’t have any kids of my own, but some of the things I was told when I was a kid include:
“Don’t draw a dinosaur on your banana!”
“Don’t put Mickey out the window!” Referring of course, to Mickey Mouse and the car window.
:smack:
Just last night to my step-son:
Don’t tell me you’re sorry; this is not about you being sorry; this is about me being mad.
[After five minutes in this vein, I suddenly switched to ‘you’re right, it’s not that serious.’ The poor guy]
This was just a couple years ago, actually, my little brother was probably 15 or so, and we found a bunch of old records (crappy ones by weird Christian folk groups) in the attic and he was out in the back yard throwing them around like frisbees and trying to break them. My mom’s standing at the back door watching. I hear this exchange.
Brother: “They aren’t breaking!”
Mom: “Well throw 'em at the trees!”
It was the funniest thing ever at the time, I swear.
“Please don’t hang from the ceiling fan. I don’t care if you’re a pterodactyl”.
“If you do that one more time I’ll break your legs into 15 pieces, cook them, and feed them to Admani”
“I wish the goblins would come and take you away right now”.