I have tweeted some of the following dialogue, but for posterity’s sake recorded them here as well.




Let me put these socks on you, and you can be Daddy.


You can put a sparkly pigtail holder in my hair and it will look pretty, does that sound good?


No, no. I want Cheetos for breakfast.


[Dumping water on own head in the bath, which she won’t actually let me do without a scene…] I’m taking a nice shower.


Mommy, there’s an ant. [It was a big, dead palmetto bug. *shudder.*]


N.Lo has curls in his hair. I think he needs a haircut when we get home. Daddy will cut his hair when he gets home.


N.Lo… Mommy’s driving. You have to wait to ask later. [Oh, my dear. If only you followed this sage advice.]





Thank you… much. [The “much” is a very deliberate add-on he’s using lately, as in “thank you very much.”]


I want to climb. [screeches] I want to climb! [Re: my curbing the dilly-dallying that occurs in the company car. I don’t mind a little waiting for the employees to climb up in their seats, but honestly. Climbing on the console and into the front seat is not an acceptable response to my request.]


I’m done. I’m done. [He very abruptly ends his baths this way, always, and climbs out, ready to be wrapped up in his towel.]


One, two, three, four, five… [While singing along. I still have no idea if he knows what he was saying, but that’s some good counting!]

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