“You’re not so awesome today.” Saying “no” to tv has consequences.

“I love your hair, mama. It has sparklers in it like spiderwebs.” Grey hair can be cool. Who knew?

“Frogs don’t “ribbit”, mama. They “rabbit”.”

“My butt has a machine gun in it from supper…my tummy is full.”

“Owen, I need space…Noooo-O! More…not enough…not enough…ok, good, stay there, baby.” She pushed him to the end of the couch.

“Cars go toooooo FAST (commenting on Ainsworth traffic as we walked together)…It takes a LONG time to get to Kennedy. I want cheese pizza…(giggling) I like my new shoes.”

“My nose is drippy. It’s making bubbles again.” Being sick isn’t for whimps.

“Ugh, my bones hurt. My body grows really fast and my dresses don’t fit.” Fashion first after all.

“(Teeheehee) I like to pet your skin when you’re sleeping.” And the award for the most unintentionally sinister statement goes to…

She was coughing so much she put a pull-up on in case of accidents. When getting ready to leave the house to see the pediatrician, Dr. Amanda, she panicked and said she had to take her pull-up off. I explained that the doctor wouldn’t judge her, that she would understand, and Nora visibly relaxed and said, “Ok, mama.”

“”Lick” is for ice cream…not your shoes.” Sound life advice.

“Mama, I need alone time with Owen, please. Can we play in my room?”
Stunned, and a little tearful, “Yes, of course, honey.”
Owen toddled behind her and double-backed to shut the baby gate behind him, “Bye-bye.”
(That’s right, Owee, bye-bye babyhood.)

While wearing a net hamper over herself, running around the room, and pronouncing regally in her Peppa the Pig, English accent, “I’m being a block.” Accept it sounded like “black” and she was saying it loudly. We were concerned.

“I love my, Owen…can he sleep in here?” She might come to regret that request.

Barbara Ann Kelso

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