Last night, while rushing out to the hallway to figure out what the cats could have possibly destroyed I smacked my foot into something hard and now my foot hurts. This morning, I shut the recliner and smacked the back of the same foot on the hard edge of the foot rest. I know, I know, quit being a baby.
Me: Ow! That hurts!
Jack: Ow? *walks to me and examines my foot* ow?
Me: Owie! Jack, kiss mommy's foot!
Jack: *runs away giggling maniacally*
Me: How come no one ever kisses my boo-boos?
Todd: I kiss your boobies all the time!
Me: NOT my boobies, my boo-boos!
(this was not a misunderstanding, Todd was just being funny)
Also this morning after Jack pooped:
Todd (to Jack): C'mere pooper! You can't run from me, I'm the pooper scooper! Oh. I don't like that. Why does daddy have to be the pooper scooper?
Me: Because I'm the pooper scooper the other 5 days of the week.
Potty training is beginning full force this weekend and Jack is getting bribed for sitting on the potty as well as producing pee or poop.
Jack is looking through his "big boy" underpants:
Todd: Here's Jake, and Mickey, and let's see. That's Fanny Manny. Or Handy Manny. Whatever.
Me: What did you call him?
Todd: *holds up underwear with Handy Manny's picture on the back* Well, technically he is "Fanny Manny"!
We've got so many more of these. I should start documenting them. Todd certainly keeps our house in the funny
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