Henry: Mom, is Franklin made out of plastic?
Me: No, he's not made out of plastic.
H: What is he made out of?
Me: What is he made out of?
H: I don't know.
Me: What are you made out of?
H: Um. I don't know. What are you made out of?
Me: I am made out of skin and bones and muscles and blood.
H: Franklin is made out of bones and muscle and blood and um...bone and muscles. And I'm made out of bones! And muscles! ... Mom, watch my spoon fly.
Me: No.
H: (throws his spoon across the table)
Me: .
H: I want my spoon!
.....just a little taste of our breakfast time conversation.
1 comment:
Sounds familiar. Only when we get to the spoon-throwing types of moments, my response these days is more like this: !!!!!!!!??!!!?!!?!!!!!?? I need to start yoga classes. Or karate.
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