Good Snackin'

I've been making my own croutons, lately, and the littles like to snack on them sometimes. Po just came up to me and asked, "Mommy, may I have a poo-toun?"

I was laughing too hard to correct him. I'm so mature.

Don't Choke

I gave the littles some mango with lunch today. Porter thought some of the pieces were too big and said "Mommy, please cut my mango smaller. The big pieces hurt my esophagus."

Why, certainly.

Table Talk

Campbell has been a bit queasy over the last couple of days, and Po has been trying to help me. Poor guy also has a pretty sensitive gag reflex, so he is conquering one of his fears by being my assistant. He just reported, "Mommy, I just heard her poo come out. Could you please change her right now?"

Campbell said "No, Po-Po. I just toot."

Po looked at her with his nostrils flared and said "I don't think so. Mommy, change her."

A Lesson in Appreciation

We were driving around today with Daddy in the car, which is a rare thing. Daddy saw a car he liked, and said "I really like those."

Po said, "Daddy, don't you think you should be happy with the car you have?"

Somebody just showed his hand. He does listen, on occasion.

Having an Older Brother Who Loves to Read

Our family recently started juicing every morning. It feels good to do something healthy together as a family, and everyone has been getting in on the act, selecting what to juice and squishing it into the juicer. Fun! The not-so-fun aspect is how cleansing it is. I mean, good to know it's doing its job, but, well. You get the idea. Although we've been following the guidelines, we're all a little more regular, let's say.

This morning Po loved his juice, then went to the bathroom and asked for help. "I have diarrhea of a wimpy kid!" he announced.

I Don't Want to Get Pulled Over

Po and I had some rare time alone yesterday, much of it spent driving on the freeway. As you can imagine, the kid talks non-stop, so whenever there are a few moments of silence, I know he's just reloading with something spectacular.

We passed a police car, lights ablaze, on the side of the road. "Mommy, how do police cars pull people over? They don't have hooks."

I won't go all into how I explained him out of his literal mindset, but it was quite a lengthy discussion, and I'm still not sure he understands. It's funny when you think about all of the things that could be misinterpreted if we thought of them literally. I wonder what else he ponders about that way. Knowing him, I'll find out.

Someone Thinks I'm Pretty

I was holding Po yesterday, and he was staring at my shirt. He finally said, "you're pretty, Mommy."

"Thanks, Po. Is it because of my shirt, or because of my gorgeous face?" I prodded.

"It's just the sparkles on your shirt."

I figured.