Saturday, July 6, 2013

My kids are clowns.

A few days ago, I taught the kids "Pop Goes the Weasel."  I had to explain that the weasel was angry, and hit the monkey, because the imp thought he popped like a bubble.  He, in turn, explained that to the pixie while he was trying (and failing) to play with her.  She turns to him, narrows her eyes, and tells him, "You a monkey." 

The imp's eyes went wide, and he edged away from her, playing quietly by himself until she calmed down.

I choked--I haven't heard a more creative threat from a two-and-a-half year old child. 

Recently, as I play with the kids, and the pixie climbs in my lap for refuge, the imp comes up saying "I gonna eat [Pixie] up!"  I gather her up and turn away, claiming that I'm gonna eat her up, and she's not big enough to share. 

This evening, the kids eating supper in the kitchen while I did a few things elsewhere, started screeching.  I nearly yelled at them for fighting, but something got me to stop and listen.

Imp: "I gonna eat you up!"

Pixie:  "I not big enough share!"

Back and forth, with screeching giggles. 


  1. Aaaaand it's time for some insulin.

    1. Right now, they're playing, and screeching, and giggling like little loons.


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