I have a small child. He says amazing things.
Des just said to me, “I don’t have to make friends, but if you want me to, I will make friends with that boy.”
Where he got the idea that I “want” him to make friends is beyond me. He even looked perplexed when I said, “Only if you want to.”
He said hi to the boy, who then asked him, “Do you want to play hide-and-seek?”
Des said “ummm” and tilted his head, stroking his chin in thought, pausing for almost too long.
Word of the day, Des-style, is the linguistically fascinating “their-chother” (plural of “each other”).
Re my current profile pic:
“I want to see that bad girl with the snappy things.”
Preface: I’ve been teaching Dez some jokes. Now that he gets the general structure, he’s been making up his own.
“Why did the lawnmower roll over the sandbox?”
“I don’t know; why?”
“I want to wear a big barrette in my hair soon. But my friends at school will laugh at me if I do.”
Here we go.
“Why is our house outside?”
The only answer I could think of:
“Everything is outside. Everything that’s not in a house.”
He totally bought it.
We are sitting in a room together.
“Are you here?”
“Is Grammy here?”
“Grammy!” he calls out.
He seems to be investigating the presence/absence binary.
Desmond often has bad dreams. (Clearly his life is so fraught.) One heartbreaking one he talks about a lot: I’m in a hole in the ground, and he’s looking down at me, and he’s very sad because he didn’t say good-bye to me, and I’m “going bye-byes.”
My kid knows what “PITA” stands for. Sort of. He thinks it stands for “pain in the butt.”
Upon seeing the word “Outback” on the interior of my car, he said, “That says, ‘Mama’s car.'” Yup.
“I’m not a Polish person; I’m a little boy!”
My 3-year-old says the most inappropriate things.
“I want you.”
“I want to have you.”
“Can I have you?”
“Put your legs down so that I can have you.”