Another collection of the things my kids have come up with recently.
To preface the first one, we live right across the street from the fire department and a block from the police department (ironically, we have moved three times in 7 years and have always been, at the most, a block or two away from both.. in different towns), so we are constantly hearing sirens. It’s ok, really. You get used to it.
*Fire truck sounds outside*
Donovan: Must be a fire. Or an accident. Or someone lost an arm!
Braeden: Can I have more corn dogs?
Me: I don’t have anymore. I gave you 6; did you eat them all?
Me: Good job! Why don’t you finish up your chips and see if those help fill you up?
Braeden: These chips are BORING!
Me: Well, I’m sorry your chips are boring. Would you like them to stand up and dance for you?
Braeden: Ummm… YES!
Donovan: *reaching over, snaking a Frito from Braeden’s plate*
Braeden: Dude! What’s the matter with you?!
Me: *after we have left the dentist without getting Donovan’s cavity filled (another post entirely)* You know, Donovan, you eventually need to get your tooth fixed so it doesn’t hurt anymore when you eat things.
Donovan: I know, but I just wasn’t ready.
Me: Ok, but.. the longer you wait to get the cavity filled, the worse it will get.
Donovan: I don’t want to get a shot!
Me: Right now, it’s just one. But if you wait too long? I once had a cavity where they had to do two shots in the front and 3 in the back to make it numb enough.
Donovan: *long pause* You know? It seems that my tooth feels better.
Donovan: Is a train the fastest electrical thing ever?
Me: Err.. No..
Donovan: Then what is? A bullet?
Donovan: *flushing toilet and coming out of the bathroom* I bet the toilet paper will have plenty of friends at the poop and pee place [sewage plant].
Donovan: Do some people die by getting hit by T-Rexes?
Me: Dinosaurs don’t exist anymore. They’re extinct. They died a long time ago.
Donovan: Like in the 1850s?
Me: *exasperated sigh*
Braeden: What, Mom? Taxes?
Yes. It had nothing to do with the toddler traipsing barefoot through freshly mowed, dew-laden grass, despite my admonishments to stay out of said wet grass, while watching for his big brother’s bus… and then running into and through the entire house.
It was most definitely taxes.