Little Sayings to Record

These are all courtesy of Owen--the resident 3 year old.

Two weeks ago driving in the car, from the back seat I hear:

Owen: "That makes Jesus really mad."

Me: "What makes Jesus mad?"

Owen: "When you cut down his plants it makes him really mad."

A little too much exposure to Al Gore or too many "green" commericals on Disney? Who's to know?

Last week while he and Eli are bathing in the tub, Eli starts crying:

Me: Why is Eli crying? (I can tell you that it's because Owen dumped a bucket of water on his head, but it's good to allow a child to confess right?)

Owen: I don't know. I think it's because he wants those things.

Me: What things?

Owen: Your things mom. Pointing to his chest, "Those big things you have here."

Me: Why do you think he wants those?

Owen: Because that's what you do, you give him those and he's happy.

Me: Well, Eli's too old to do that now. He just gets food now.

I could sense Owen's disappointment for Eli's loss. What a caring brother.

The Sc-Poop

Snatches of recent conversations heard around our household.

Last week I had to change Owen's poopy diaper--

Me: Owen! Yuck, this is the hugest poop!

Owen: Yeah! And Santa Claus brought it to me!

Me: Oh yeah? (laughing)


The next day and another poopy diaper--

Me: Holy cow Owen! This is a huge poop!

Owen: Yeah! A Huge Poop and Santa Claus brought it to me.

Me: He did huh?

Owen: (Gauging my reaction says) I'm a clever boy huh?

I have to brag a second here and say, "CLEVER???" How many two year olds know that word let alone know how to use it in correct context? His vocab always floors me.

Yesterday

Ryanna: Mom, I want to get out my scrapbook.

Me: Okay, that's fine.

Owen (who always parrots what Ryanna says): A Crapbook? You want to do your crapbook?

Me: No, it's ssssscrapbook.

Owen: Oh, sssss.......crapbook.

whatever... I do have to say that he doesn't know that was funny and I tried not to laugh to let on either.

Flagstaff Funnies

We just got back from another trip and apparently all this travel is taking its toll on me. I woke up with Owen this morning at around 6:15, which is his usual wake-up time, and came downstairs. I was only with him for about an hour when Derek came downstairs and I fell asleep--till 10!!! I was and still feel tired. This pregnancy really has zapped my energy. I wonder if I'm growing another huge boy baby like Owen? I don't really want to try and top Owen's nine pound birth.

While we were in Flagstaff, Ryanna wanted to know what time it was, so I told her to ask Derek. She said, "Dad, what time is it? Will you check your blueberry?"

Apparently that's the newer version of the Blackberry huh?

Then, on the drive home, she was having a discussion with Derek...

Ryanna: "Dad, do you know why I don't kill people?"

Derek: "Um, because it's wrong?"

Ryanna: "No, because I'm not strong enough."

Don't ask me why she's even thought about this. It's not as though we even let her watch PG-13 movies. I guess pre-school is a harder life than I realized.

And, for all those of you wondering if we've picked a name for this boy--we haven't. We can't seem to come to an agreement on this. Derek absolutely doesn't like the names I like and I don't like the names he likes. It's getting a bit frustrating.