The other day I was explaining to Milo that I had found a single-serving container of plain cream cheese, and I referred to it as "mini-sized." Milo thought for a moment and replied, "I think I'd rather have Mickey-size, Mommy."
Also, a few minutes after we laid our little people down the other night, we heard Milo screaming at the top of his lungs. Nate ran over to his door wondering what was wrong, and he realized that he was shouting, "I can't hear anything at all! I can't hear anything at all!" Nate burst into the room to check on him, and Milo was startled.
"Daddy, what is it?"
"Milo, I heard you shouting. What's going on in here?"
"I was shouting? I couldn't hear it. I had my fingers in my ears like this." (Insert one pointer finger in each ear.)
I don't lack for Lucy stories, either. My little sprout loves socks, and, in fact, digs through her dirty laundry basket to find them and carry them around with her. The other day she was furious with me because I wouldn't put dirty socks on her (she already had socks on, mind you), and she glared at me, shaking her head and saying, "ZzzzzzzzzzOCKS!" in her frustration. She was so angry her s's had turned to z's.
She's also learned the concept of "stuck." Never mind that she usually gets herself stuck on purpose, just to tell us and let us get her un-stuck. When she was finished with her lunch today she looked at me from her high chair and told me over and over, "Mommy, I stuck." Imagine her face when I explained to her that I wanted her to be stuck in the high chair - that it's kind of the point of it.
So we are still laughing around here. These little people make it impossible not to.
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