For reasons unknown to me, family members enjoy offering Baby Joseph food and laughing at his complete disinterest in this strange multi-colored stuff we’re putting in our mouths.
My youngest daughter said to him in her high-pitched little voice, “You want chips and salsa, Joe? You want some beer?” (Please note that she was consuming neither.)
But the goofiness doesn’t end there. My oldest spilled dry Rice Krispies on the floor. Did she sweep them up right away? No. She brought out Read the rest of this entry
My daughter’s science assignment is to come up with analogies for the parts of a cell. My husband is helping her with ideas like a factory and an assembly line. I’m in the kitchen yelling my own suggestions: “gun runners, the Nazi regime, Read the rest of this entry
My neighbor recently told me the story of when her husband was a boy, he saw his dad waxing his Porsche. Ever the helpful one, he decided to pitch in, only he didn’t grab a soft pad to wax with, he grabbed Read the rest of this entry
This little operation was well under way by the time I got wind of it. They had a blast, and Punzie worked for her food for a change.
For the record, those are sunflower seeds, honest! Read the rest of this entry
When she was upset and crying, (I forget about what. It was minor.) she tearfully asked, “Do we have any [sniff] tomatoes?”
Tomatoes? The kid wanted tomatoes to calm herself down! Not a hug from Mommy, not her teddy bear or blanket, not even a bar of chocolate or some ice cream like any normal female.
She wanted tomatoes.
My husband picked four tiny red ones from our plant outside. She was instantly consoled. I wish it were that easy for me.
Then, as if that weren’t weird enough, she put the tomatoes in her milk cup and drank/ate them. Like I said, weirdo. Of course, this is also the child who enjoys drinking grape juice and milk. In the same cup.
She also asserts frequently and with great confidence that the last day of this coming summer will be the best day of her life because then she gets to start Kindergarten the next day. Let’s see how long her enjoyment of school lasts, shall we?
Read the rest of this entry
A friend of mine posted this on facebook:
Can a two-year-old have aspirations to be a medieval executioner? She has a pair of toy pliers and is attempting to remove my toes while insisting that “it no hurt.”
“You be fine, Mommy. It no hurt.” Medieval torture rack (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
[Several minutes later…]
Now she is approaching with a Read the rest of this entry