the coffee is underflowing

Living with, and listening to, a three year old:

Everybody has hair and eyes, and everybody has nipples and butts. Wait, not everybody does have hair?

Looking in the dishwasher, when asked to help unload: I can't. The dishes are in a crumble.
(They weren't broken. Did he mean jumble, like the bowls were kind of piled up?)

Imagine if one of your legs was another arm.
Imagine if we had two Celias.
Imagine if we could stay outside forever.

Perched on a stool with his face inches from the steeping machine: The coffee is underflowing.

Thinking about Halloween: Can you please look down Godzilla costumes with me on the computer? 

I'm so talented at this. {building magnatiles, writing the alphabet, dancing... pretty much straight up confident doing anything he enjoys}