Milo: “Can I make my list now?”
Me: “What list?”
Milo: “My list for Santa.”
Me: “But you already told Santa what you wanted.”
Milo: “But there are more things I want!”
Me: “It’s too late. Santa’s flying tomorrow — he doesn’t have time to make more presents.”
Milo: “Can I open one of the presents under the tree, then? It’ll make me feel better.”
Me: “For the last time, no!”
Morris: “Ha ha, Mommy, you funny.”
The boys are upstairs in the bath right now…
Milo: “Mom!”
Me: “Yeah?”
Milo: “Morris has a booger in his nose!”
Me: “That’s nice.”
Milo: “No, it’s not! You have to come get it!”
Me: “… Okay.”
Milo: “It looks disgusting!”
Morris: “HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Milo: “No, stop breathing — that makes it move! Eww! Get away from me!”
Morris: “HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Milo, talking to himself as he plays with his Playmobil toys:
“Can I touch you with my sword?”
“Okay.”
“Touch.”
“Wham! Blam! Blowee!”
“No fair! I don’t get the crown!”
“Thanks Miss. Oh, wait. I don’t think this fits me.”
“Of course it fits. Duh!”
“I don’t think I need this, Missy.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I don’t want a hat. Oh wait, I just remembered, if I don’t have a hat, I die. FOREVER.”
Me, tired after chasing two naked little boys around the house: “Come on, it’s bath time! Upstairs now, or else!”
Milo, pauses halfway up the stairs and looks back down at me: “Or else what?”
Me: “Or else I’ll squeeze that little bum of yours until it pops like a pimple.”
Milo appraises me thoughtfully. “Do it.”
Morris, picking something out of his nose: “That’s a booger!”
Me: “Yep, it is.”
Morris: “Boogers are yucky.”
Me: “Yes, they are.”
Morris: “You no eat boogers.”
Me: “No, you don’t. That’s so yucky.”
Morris: “I looooooooove boogers.”
Me: “You love boogers? Why?”
Morris: “Because.”
Me: “Because why?”
Morris: “I love you, Mommy.”
Overheard from downstairs:
Milo: “If you want a girl to like you, you’ve got to smack her on the bum.”
Rob: “I don’t think that’s the way it works.”
Milo: “Yes, it is! She’ll scream ‘Eeeee!’ and then hug you so hard you’ll explode, that’s what.”
Morris’s new favourite joke (which he says about 50 times a day):
Morris: “Mommy, you’re dumb.”
Me: “Morris! I’ve told you, that’s not nice to say.”
Morris: “You’re a papadum! HA HA HA HA HA!”
Milo, showing me his latest Tinkertoy invention: “Look, Mom! This wrecker destroyer has SIX zappers on it. So if Morris tries to destroy you again, I can protect you.”
Morris, who had been sitting quietly in my lap, turns and points a Tinkertoy lollipop at my face: “Zap! Zap! Zap! Zap! Zap!”
Just overheard from upstairs:
Milo, to Morris: “*I* wear underwear. YOU wear a diaper. Diapers are babyish. Underwear is MANLY.”
Me (fist bumping with Milo and Morris): “Wonder Twin powers, activate!”
Milo: “Wonder Twin Powers, pizzavate!”
Morris: “Wonder Toon Power, bongo bake!”
Rob: “You guys are weird.”
