Peanut told me yesterday that his rules are:
No holding hands in the street
Yell every time Daddy talks
Only give people money when you want to
People can only skateboard everywhere
Pinch the cats every day
Everybody wears only fancy pants
Only eat yucky things
No pants; only nude
You have to eat grass if you say no to things
No eating cereal, ever
Get under the blankets even if you’re too hot
I asked when he thought he got to make the rules.
When he’s 46, he says.
P: Thank you for making me lunch, Mommy.
M: Wow. Thank you. That is really nice to say. That makes me feel good.
P: I know. That’s why I said it.
After the cat got sick all over his bed: “If he does that ever again, I will just poop in his bed.”
Parading through the house, banging pots: “Here I go on a outing without Mommies or boys and it’s fun and you can’t come!”
In the tub tonight: “My penis has wings!”
[Update: Spouse, who was manning the bath, has informed me that Peanut was playing ring toss with inflatable rings and was marveling at the RINGS not WINGS. Not sure which is funnier.]
Naptime, my darling, there are no words.
I heart this post times a million. His rules would make a bestselling poster, methinks.
the penis having wings is it. he summed it up for the entire of male humanity.
Damn. Not having a boy, I’m missing out on all the good stuff. I think a winged penis might just beat out the grocery store announcement of getting ingredients for “vagina lasagna.”
ck, I am totally not coming over to your house on vagina lasagne night. I liked your gynie post, myself.
I love your boy. I’ll take him for a weekend. Not that you would trust me what with pudding and DVD time every day.
Ah, dear Fae, you know I’m down with pudding day and DVD day every day. I just don’t trust myself not to become Pudding and DVD Mom 24/7I have a problem with moderation. You, on the other hand, are the Master of doing things well, so you have permission to do whatever you need when I send him for a year. Oh, you said weekend. Damn it.