Sunday, April 24, 2011

Post bedtime chores

Jackson, 7, Palm Coast, Florida
At bedtime, after discussing the day with his dad, Jackson said: "OK, you can go now, if you need to do any chores, like picking up anything I accidentally left on the floor."

Friday, April 22, 2011

Why aren't there any commercials in this game?

Jackson, 7, Palm Coast, Florida
Sitting in the fourth row, right behind home plate at a baseball game, Jackson said: "This is just like TV. Except there's a big net in the way."

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Does a body good

Matthew, 4, Idaho Falls, Idaho
When asked what he wanted to do while he was sick, Matthew said, "I could sit around."
Clarifying further, he added, "If you put Mario back on the computer, I could sit around playing that."

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Freshly squeezed?

Dean, 6, Santa Monica, California
Upon encountering a glass of Tampico, Dean observed: "This smells like fruit, but it doesn't taste like fruit."

On bilingualism

Grant, 4, Palm Coast, Florida
Confused while listening to a Spanish radio station, Grant said, "This sounds like Piglet."

Friday, April 8, 2011

Just like a woman?

Dylan, 3, Vernon, Connecticut
To his father, Dylan said, "Are you a woman or a person?"

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Oh, thank heaven, for "yeow" 11

Lyric, 2, St. Petersburg, Florida
When asked to say all the letters in the word, "yellow," Lyric said: "Y, E, eleven, O, W."

If it involves a remote, it might qualify

Jackson, 7, Palm Coast, Florida
When asked to provide proof to his claim that soccer is not a sport, Jackson replied, "Because it's not on Wii Sports."

Monday, April 4, 2011

Matt and the Magic Soup

Matthew, 4, Idaho Falls, Idaho
"The thing about soup is that is doesn't look like any is gone when you take a bite."

Sunday, April 3, 2011

The dime

A dime slipped out of his mouth and plopped into the urine-filled toilet bowl. To my 4-year-old, it was an impossible dilemma: lose the dime or plunge your hand into the pee.

I told him we should just flush, knowing it likely would remain at the bottom of the bowl; but he wouldn’t take that chance.

He found a strainer from a kitchen cupboard, to scoop it out, but it didn’t work. He said he would use a rag, then, but I talked him out of it. It’s just a dime, I said.

Then we had to do something else, and I forgot about it.

Now, it’s 2 a.m. He’s sleeping on the bottom bunk in the next room, and I see the dime is still there, in the bowl, having survived a few flushings already, just as I thought. I wanted to chuckle, but the memory was heavy, a vision of my son at the toilet bowl, his cowlick, his Velcro shoes, his money pouch rattling, his head in his hands, frowning, staring at the dime.