Tell four-year-old to get dressed for the day. Find him ten minutes later wearing a turtleneck and pants – in August, in Texas.
Me: “You can’t wear that. It’s too hot to go outside like that.”
Son: “Says who? The little man in the tin can?”
Me: “Wha- . . . who ARE you?”
– – – –
Respond to disturbance in bathroom. Find unspeakable mess. Ask youngest son and daughter how it happened.
Son: Well Dad, it started because, um, well, she kept opening the door and I wanted privacy in the bathroom.”
Me: Didn’t I just hear you shout “woo hoo! Party in the bathroom!”?
Son: Um . . . no. I said . . . “larty in the cathroom”.
Me: Really? That’s what you’re going with? Those aren’t even words.
Son: I’m a child. I don’t know *all* the words.