<p>D, age 3, sitting in my almost-non-existent-because-I’m-8 months-pregnant-with-S lap and pointing to my, um…chest: “Do you have 2% milk in there to feed him?”</p>
<p>S, age 4, looking at a photo album: “There’s so much rememberies.”</p>
<p>I hope the rest of the preschoolers didn’t know that song, PackMom!</p>
<p>When my kids were young they always made me feel so loved and important</p>
<p>My son: If you died I would give someone else your glasses and they could be my Mommy</p>
<p>Sitting in the back of the car some discussion arose with my daughter saying she would live with me when she grew up</p>
<p>son “she’ll be dead by then”
daughter “no she’ll just be really really old”
son “no she’ll be dead”
daughter “no she’ll just be really really old”
repeat for about 5 minutes</p>
<p>Daughter to my husband “Daddy when you were still alive…”</p>
<p>S was three years old; he learned to read when very young, and by three, was a perfectly fluent reader. (I hasten to add that I’m sure he did not always understand everything he read!)</p>
<p>One evening, he was lying on his back in bed, reading an issue of “Scientific American.” It was bedtime. I walked into his room, lay down next to him on the double futon, and told him it was time to put the magazine away and go to sleep. He studiously ignored me.</p>
<p>I told him again it was time to put the magazine away and go to sleep. He continued to studiously ignore me.</p>
<p>I told him I was going to turn out the light, because it was time to put the magazine away and go to sleep. He continued to read. I turned out the light.</p>
<p>He handed me the magazine, still open. There was enough ambient light in the room for him to see that I closed the magazine before putting in on the floor next to the bed. As I did so, I asked him, “So what were you reading about, sweetie?”</p>
<p>His put-out, dry reply: “I was reading a study about people who lose other people’s places in books and magazines.”</p>
<p>owlice - bet you then knew you were in for it!</p>
<p>Owlice - that was a great story! BTW, your S is truly amazing. My D was reading pretty fluently at three as well - but definitely not Scientific American!</p>
<p>bz, I laughed myself nearly sick; totally cracked me up! </p>
<p>LIMOMOF2, it’s partly the wiring, I think. He read everything in view as soon as he possibly could, and he read Scientific American with way more intensity than I ever have!</p>
<p>When D was a tiny chintzy she would say “up me” when she wanted to be picked up and “drink me” when she was thirsty, which was very cute until she yelled “eat me” in a restaurant when the bread basked arrived!</p>
<p>OK, names have been changed to protect their privacy. Older D just called and said she thinks her kids have seen too many political ads on TV. Janie is 2 and Johnny is 4.</p>
<p>They both had been pestering her for a(nother) cookie, but it was getting close to dinner time so she said no. They went off to play and after a bit Janie came in and said, “Feeding us cookies is the RIGHT thing to do. They have raisins and raisins are good for us.”<br>
Johnny was right behind her: “My name is Johnny Johnson and I approve this message.”</p>
<p>lol i love this thread
my little brother always says funny things to me. when i think of some i’ll post some up</p>
<p>These are so funny! dragonmom, how adorable is that? (‘buy them both a ball’).</p>
<p>I was telling my child about something that had happened to me a long time ago. She said “You mean when I was an egg?”</p>
<p>Just before he turned two, our son was taking a walk with me when suddenly he took off running toward the street. I raced after him, catching up with him just as he reached an old metal garbage can someone had left at the end of their driveway for garbage pick-up that morning. He stopped, peered into it, and asked: “Oscar?” </p>
<p>As a toddler, this son shook hands with those around us during the exchange of a sign of peace at church, but typically didn’t say anything – until one Sunday when, as he shook hands with the people in the pew ahead of us and behind us, he said what he assumed everyone else was saying when they shook hands: “Pizza, pizza.”</p>
<p>Hope grown S doesn’t read this.</p>
<p>When he was 4 or 5 we had a very large, scary thunderstorm. I passed on the story my parents had told about the thunder sound being the sound of angels bowling. (OK - it’s dumb, but it worked when I was 5 
).</p>
<p>S: <disgusted voice=“”> The angels are too BUSY to be bowling</disgusted></p>
<p>Exchange between my 4 yr old very picky eater and myself at the dinner table:</p>
<p>Mom: Someday you’ll be begging me to cook.
Son: Yeah, I’ll be begging you to cook…somewhere else.</p>
<p>^^ ouch - at 4 years old!</p>
<p>Ok - I’ve already posted a couple (my kids would kill me) but I remembered another. During the beanie baby craze we had bought swimcat the beanie baby hedgehog whose name was Prickles. We were in an icecream place and she was playing with her new pet and announced she was going to nickname it Prick. I quietly suggested she just call it Prickles. Being her she had to argue. - “Why - Prick’s not a rude word - you prick your finger …” and on and on repeating the word and getting louder and louder of course until we were surrounded with a restaurant full of people choking on their ice creams trying not to laugh. He brother of course thought it was hilarious. I blush easily at the best of times so was crimson at this point.</p>
<p>Very young son comes home from day care with a giant sheet of newsprint resplendent with poster paint.</p>
<p>I put said masterpiece on the refrigerator door, hold son on my hip and try to talk to him about his painting. I’ve read somewhere that I should NEVER ask, “What is it?” so I try to draw him out. Look at those nice colors! What were you thinkking about when you made this? and so on.</p>
<p>Then, in desperation. I sink to, “What is it, Sweetie?”</p>
<p>And he looks at me with such pity and says:</p>
<p>“It’s paint, Mommy.”</p>
<p>(evidently, it wasn’t representational art)</p>
<p>My husband is the chef in our house. When kids were little he was doing a lot of traveling. Before he left he would usually leave some food for us. Unfortunately we were short of some prepared food one time. My older daughter was around 3-4 and we were living in NYC. When I came home, I took off my suit as fast as possible, at the same time telling my daughter not to worry, mommy will make something for dinner right away.</p>
<p>My daughter said, “Call the man.”</p>
<p>I said, “What man?”</p>
<p>Every time I opened the refridge she would repeat it again. I finally figured it out that she wanted me to do was to order out. In NYC a delivery person was always a man, so “the man” was a delivery person.</p>
<p>My daughter was very smart, even at 3, to know her mother couldn’t cook.</p>
<p>Too bad adcoms didn’t want to use that as an indication of intelligence.</p>
<p>The story is too long to tell, but DD once confused Jehovah’s Witnesses with the witness protection program. (“They have a CHURCH?”)</p>
<p>She also threatened to banish her sister to the woods during a fight…we cut WAY BACK on the fairy tales after that one.</p>