kid-isms

I spent the last day jotting down some of the things that pop out of Blessing #5’s mouth, as the little guy is pretty entertaining. Putting his words down in writing does not nearly capture these moments, but it’s all I can do right now; I haven’t figured out how to copy my brain videos to my laptop.;)

So here is the b&w version of my technicolor laughterthoughts:

FROM THE MOUTH OF MY FOUR-YEAR OLD:

As he rode in the shopping cart over the bumpy asphalt parking lot:

Mom, my bones are dancin’!

As he pointed his finger gun at me:

Stick ‘em up before I shoot!

You better get your hands up 'cause you’re an alien!

(an alien = under arrest)

As we watched the intro to the 60’s cartoon:

Spider-man is *not* a radio actor-bot.

*grunt*

He is *just* Spider-man.

(is a radio actor-bot = has radioactive blood)

As he drank some milk after lunch:

Mom, I’ve seen a real live bat before. In your tummy. Before I was born. When I was still in your tummy there was a bat in there with me. And sometimes it would fly around. When I was born and came out of your tummy, the bat came out, too. But then it was invisible, so you didn’t see it. Did ya know, Moma?

(which now fully explains those fluttery feelings during pregnancy)

As we sat at soccer practice:

Mom, you should get the DVD of the ballerations.

You know… the one.

The one with the white dogs with the dots.

The black ones.

(ballerations = 101 Dalmatians)

As we drove home:

Mom, all the cars in this world are shiny.

Except for the dusty ones. And the broken ones.

….And Satan’s ones.

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