Conversations

What I enjoy most about my son these days are the conversations we have.  The way he takes what he knows and puts it together in expectations for his world entertain me endlessly.

In the past week he has told me,

  1. “I hope they have meerkat races at the zoo this summer.”
  2. “When we go to Mexican to eat, I want a cheese quesadilla AND a hamburger.  With some chicken on it.”
  3. “Can you get me a new shirt?  With a dragon on it?  In fact, I want TWO dragons.”

The best one was on the way home from preschool this week when we were stopped at a train.  Adam was explaining whey he wanted to get on that train and go to New York City:

 

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Bring me your dead

My life is in such a whirlwind these days that I lack the proper mental capacity to form a proper blog posts.  Instead,  my life reads more like a series of comical vignettes and one-liners that I post on Facebook and move on.  Somehow though, I couldn’t quite put this on Facebook.

The most bizarre thing from last week was Adam’s assertion that there was a “dead fox head” in the yard and Ismael’s confirmation that “yeah, there’s something dead out there.  Don’t let Adam outside.”

Don’t let him outside?  For how long?  Until that dead thing rots away? Until a buzzard carries it off?  What?

Still not believing the veracity of his claims, I had to get a look at it myself.

Indeed.  It was dead.  It was the top half of one our beloved “squirrel friends” as Adam calls them. I have no idea what took off with the business end of that squirrel, but Lorie maintains that a hawk took off with it in a “to-go” bag.

Bon Appetit!

 

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Where the wild things are

At approximately 6:32 AM, Adam crawled into bed with me.

Mommy?  he says directly in my right ear,  I have a secret.

mrosufpmph, I reply into my pillow.

I love you.

mormmpssph.

Approximately 30 seconds after that:

Mommy?  he says directly in my right ear,  I have a secret.

mrosufpmph, I reply into my pillow again.

I loooooooooooooove you.

mormmpssph.  Go to sleep little boy.

By some miracle of heaven, he lays down and sleeps for two more hours.  At 8:30 I’m a little more ready to face the day, a four year old, and play nice.

Adam? I have a secret!

What mommy?

I LOVE YOU!

Mommy?  I have a secret too!

What baby?

I thought you were going to die.

WHAT?!

I also had a dream about horses.

What? Wait.  Go back to that dying thing.  What was going to make me die?

A dromeosaurus.  AND a T-REX.

I would like to announce to the entire Internet, since Ismael isn’t home right now, that I WAS RIGHT and perhaps that realistic dinosaur show he found on Amazon Prime wasn’t necessarily 4 year old appropriate.

Meanwhile, I’m going to check under the covers for prehistoric land walking creatures.

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