This conversation took place at the supper table when we were eating pizza.
P: I found the wishbone!
C: There is no wishbone in a pizza!
P: Yes there is! I wish for (mumble mumble)
C: Well then I wish I had Elsa’s powers.
M: Peter – Charlotte can wish for whatever she wants.
P: But she will freeze everything!
M: *imagining thawing Peter with a hairdryer everytime Charlotte gets mad at him and freezes him*. Good point Peter. Charlotte – you aren’t allowed to wish for Elsa’s powers.
Charlotte: Mom…when are we going camping?
Me: This weekend. Are you guys going to be good and get along and not drive us bonkers so that we want to come home and send you back to daycare?
Charlotte and Peter: Yeeess!
Peter: But I can still do silly things to you.
Me: After we get back from camping you start swimming lessons. Are you excited?
Peter: Yes! I’m going to drown under the water!
Me: You’re going to drown under the water??
Peter: I wont die.
This weekend was a busy one and the kids stayed up later than normal. The result was that yesterday (Father’s day) was a day full of meltdowns and arguments. At supper we were discussing the kids behavior and Deans mom said that that was no way to behave on Fathers day. I mentioned that the same thing had happened on Mother’s day at which point Charlotte piped up “Yah, so it’s only fair.”
The kids are 3 and 6 now so of course they think potty talk is the most hilarious thing ever. When we sat down to eat supper Charlotte was talking a mile a minute and we heard her say something about “poop” and laugh. Dean told Charlotte not to use the P word and Charlotte playing dumb said “Whats the P word?”. I gave her the mom’s patented “you aren’t fooling me kid” look and said, ” You know what dad is talking about and you know that we don’t say potty words at the dinner table” at which point Peter pipes up “Yah! We say them in our sleep!”
This morning Peter came into the bathroom while I was getting ready for work and took a brush out of the drawer and started brushing his hair. He went through several brushes and then I told him it was time to get ready. “I have to get all the sugar bugs out of my hair!” he replied.
The other night as I was climbing into bed with Peter to tuck him in he turned to me and said in a growly voice, “I’m a ZOMBIE! Because I died…”. A couple of seconds later he looked at me and said “Mama…is my great-grandma a zombie??”.