still taking notes

When I was three I tried to be cool, but I didn’t really know how to be yet.

So yesterday was groundhog day. Is today warthog day? 

Maybe this meatloaf should be called “meatlove.” 

Gesturing in the corner of the nursery, just after we set up the crib:  I know, we can build a wall here around it, with a roof right on top, so if the baby cries me and Tucker won’t have to listen to it.

Indians can do anything they want, right? Because there are no rules in Indiana?

What if the Statue of Liberty had a boyfriend?!

Pointing: Mom, I need a bandage on my number one finger. 

I didn’t have a great day at school. Someone was chasing me and I asked her to stop and she didn’t and it made me fill with tears.

Can we go to the Grand Canyon today?

Using an old flip phone to pretend: Wanna play Robo Rainbow Pony Googolplex Four?  It's a new level, and he has to eat all the cookies to earn points and transform and make his muscles stronger.

I wish there was a popsicle guy who could just shoot out popsicles to us when we wanted one.

In response to more scratches on the television screen, the first he admitted to making with a metal airplane toy:  Maybe it was a woodpecker or a squirrel this time. 
After explaining that we had not seen any animals in the house: Well then maybe it was a termite, they’re mega small.

I know what construction workers could use if they didn’t have ladders.  They could use two plungers, like suction cups, to climb right up the wall.

Upon picking him up at preschool, and explaining that we were, as usual, going to walk to get Tucker: I hate winter! And Halloween and November and Mondays.

Mom, your legs have fur pokes on them.

Giving another anatomy lesson:  That’s your kidney, and those are your leg pits. And these are hub caps, I mean knee caps.

In a rare tender moment: Tucker, guess what? You are the heart of all my love.