Thursday, December 12, 2013
The answer is: at least once a day.
If you're wondering, "How often does she think I want to read semi-funny conversations with her children?"
The answer is: at least once a week.
Get used to it, folks. I've got something I like and I'm going to keep on sharing it.
Ahem. Here it is:
Micah: Go away!
Me: I'm not going away.
Micah: I'm building you an airplane.
Me: This is an airplane?
Micah: This is my very special airplane. Do. Not. Touch. my special airplane.
Micah: It's a puzzle airplane. It's hard to build it.
**Micah climbs into the center of the pillows and begins twisting and waving his hands**
Micah: Look at me, Mom! I'm driving the airplane and cooking eggs!
Me: At the same time?
Micah: Yes! Wow! Driving and cooking eggs!
Micah: You broke my cookie?
Micah: Go to time out! Go. To. Time. Out. Now.
Me: Micah you are not the boss of your brother.
Micah: But Mom, he being SO NAUGHTY! He broke my cookie!
Me: Are you a pirate?
Micah: I am NOT a pirate.
Me: Oh, what are you?
Micah: I'm a boy!
Me: Grey are you causing trouble?
Grey: No, Mom! I'm a good boy!
Me: Let's have a dance party!
Micah: Okay, don't laugh at me.
Me: What?! I wouldn't laugh at you!
Micah: You watch me dance? You promise?
Me: I promise to watch you dance.
Micah: And you can't dance.
Me: We'll all dance together.
Micah: No. I dance and you watch me, and don't laugh. Promise!
Me: What is your name?
Micah: A little boy.
Me: No, your NAME.
Micah: I am me.
Me: Your name is Micah Pitcher.
Micah: I am NOT Micah Pitcher. I am me! A little boy!
Me: Heavenly Father wants us to be kind and good.
Grey: But Mom, I like to fight with Micah.
Me: Sometimes you have to be good, even if you don't want to be.
Grey: I like to fight, Mom! I WANT to fight! I want to!
Micah: Do not fight with me, Grey.
Grey: I WANT TO FIGHT WITH YOU!
Micah: I'm falling! Save me!
Me: Honey, I'm doing dishes, so I can't play. Don't fall for real, I don't want you to get hurt.
Micah: But I want to fall and die!
Me: Please don't. I would be sad if you died.
Micah: Dying isn't sad, Mom! Dying is great!
Grey: I waked up happy from my nap!
Me: Oh, wonderful! I love when you are happy.
Grey: I guess it's 'cause I'm a big boy.
Me: What do you think of the pictures on your wall?
Micah: Oh, goodness!
Me: Oh goodness?
Micah: DO NOT SAY OH GOODNESS. I already said "Oh Goodness!"
Micah: Oh good! I'm buckled in! Now I am safe!
Me: Who's your best friend?
Micah: She's right there, Mom! Right there!
Elanor: My name is Elanor.
Micah: And you are my best friend. You are my best friend I ever had. You are my Elanor.
Grey: Dad! I choking! Dad! I choking! HEY, Travis! I CHOKING!
**Micah jumps and lands on my stomach**
Micah: You alright, Mom? Your baby kicked you?
Grey: I need more milk.
Me: You don't need more milk, go to sleep.
Grey: Please! I need milk!
Grey: I NEED TO POOP!
Me: Do you actually have to poop, or are you trying to get more milk?
Grey: I trying to get more milk.
Me: Then go back to bed.
Grey: No! WHY?!
Grey: I have green teeth, like a pirate!
Me: Look, come say hi to Santa!
Grey: Um. Mom? It's time to get going.
Micah: Mom, you look handsome!
Me: Thanks, Micah. You look pretty handsome, too.
Micah: I am pretty handsome, too.
Grey: I pooped in the toilet like Daddy!
Me: Yay! Good job, Grey!
Grey: I guess this means I'm a big boy like Daddy now.
Grey: Sing the temple!
Me: I love to see the temple,
Grey: NO! Sing it loud!
Me: I LOVE TO SEE THE TEMPLE!
Grey: No, Mom. Like this! EEEEEEEEE!
Travis: I'm happy to help you if you don't whine.
Micah: But I want to whine!
Micah: Grey, you a ghost?
Micah: You a puppy?
Micah: You are chocolate?
Micah: You are poop?
Grey: Hahaha, no! You are poop!
Micah: You are poop, Grey!
Grey: I not poop! You poop boy!
Micah: Mom, you are being too bossy!
Me: I am allowed to be bossy! I am the mom here.
Grey: No! You are NOT. I am the mom and YOU are the boy!
Me: Grey, are you being mean?
Grey: No! I'm a nice boy.
Me: Why is Elanor crying?
Grey: Because I pushed her.
Me: Why did you push her?
Grey: Because I LOVE her!
**Micah pokes me in the eye with soapy fingers**
Me: Ow! That hurt!
Micah: You okay?
Me: Yeah. But you poked me in the eye.
Micah: You poked youself in the eye?
Me: No. YOU poked me in the eye.
Micah: I did it? I poked you in you eye? I don't think so!
Micah: Wow, Mom! You are eating dinner really well.
Micah: Heavenly Father, Thank you for Riley, please bless Grey. Amen
(Riley is my in-law's dog.)
Micah: Heavenly Father, thank you for today. Amen.
Me: That's not enough. You need to say a longer prayer than that.
Micah: Okay. Please bless Mom and Dad. Um, thank you for Uncles. Bless Elanor. Thank you for milk and toys, Amen.
Micah: Stop throwing the colors on the floor! You are making me feel sad!
**We anxiously wait in line for Santa, and when we get to him, Micah begins to cry and won't go anywhere near him.**
Me: Micah, You don't have to sit on his lap, but don't you want to go ask him for the Lion King?
Micah: I NOT WANT IT ANYMORE!
Me: Grey, do you want to tell him?
Grey (from five feet away, mouthing the words- but not speaking): Santa! Lion King!
Grey: What you doing on your phone? Just nothing?