Conversation is never quite the same once you have small children. This morning I was awakened by my two girls bursting into my room.
Carissa, 2, exclaims: “Mommeeeeee!! I had yucky stuff in my nose, and I just TAKED it out!”
She flung her arm outward, demonstrating. I tried not to wonder where the “stuff” was now.
“It’s called BURGERS!” Mara explained.
“It’s not burgers!” I said groggily, barely awake.
“Well, that’s what YOU guys call it,” Mara shrugged.
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Then at lunch, Micah pushes out his chair and sprints toward the stairs.
I call after him. “Micah, why are you out of your chair?”
He turns, looking like he’s in a hurry. “I have to go POOP!”
“Well, when you’re done, don’t shout down the stairs–David is sleeping. We will come up and wipe you!” I promise.
“Okay!” he agrees. “Just listen for the SPLASH and you will know I pooped. I hope it’s a BIG splash–like KAH-SHHHHHHH!”
Daniel and I just look at each other and shake our heads.