Little M: Mommy, what is it when you have a guitar, and drums, and a piano?
Me: Do you mean a band?
Little M: Yes. I think I need a band.
Little M (running through the house to the bathroom): I’m listening to my body, I’m listening to my body, I’m listening to my body…
Me: good job listening to your body!
Little M: my body says to GO POTTY! So I am listening!
Little M: I have a pink Easter basket!
Me: yes, that’s true. (not sure where this came from)
Little M: I’m a little nervous about daddy not having an Easter basket…
Me: Don’t worry, daddy has an Easter basket. It is put away for now.
Little M: I’m not really sure…we better go check on that. (umm, ok, little weirdo)
Little M: I don’t really like boys…
Me: Ok…no boys?
Little M: No. If I did like a boy, I would like Christian, because he’s my best friend.
Me: I see. (but I really don’t)
Little M: Ms. Weaver is six!
Me: Um, I think she is older than that…do you know how old Ms. Weaver is? (I don’t)
Little M: No mommy! Six! She is SIX! She couldn’t come to school, she has to go to the doctor!
Me: Ooooh, Ms. Weaver is sick?
Little M: Yes. Sicks. Poor little Ms. Weaver…
The husband: I made a mess!
Little M: It’s ok, daddy, don’t be sad. We’ll just clean it up. Don’t worry…
This weekend at a farm:
Little M: That is a big cow…
The husband: Are you going to milk it? It’s all ready.
Little M: No thank you, I do not care for it.
The husband: Ok, are you sure?
Little M: I think you can milk it.
The husband: Um, do you think mommy should milk it?
Little M: No, I just want you to do it, and I will watch.
Little M: I didn’t milk a cow.
Me: I know, you decided not to, remember?
Little M: Only daddy can milk it.
Me: Are you sad you didn’t try it?
Little M: Tiny, tiny girl can’t milk big, big cow, mommy. That’s what happened.
And that is how the husband came to milk a cow. Ha.