My Wonderful Wife, to Little Miss Thing, age 4:
“You may not wear those today. Shoes have to fit onto your feet. It’s kind of a rule.”
My Wonderful Wife, to Little Miss Thing, age 4:
“You may not wear those today. Shoes have to fit onto your feet. It’s kind of a rule.”
Little Miss Thing, age 4, announces she is “going to be Daddy tonight.”
Proceeds to strip down to just shorts, sits on the couch and starts scratching her belly.
My work here is done.
Danger Monkey, age 7, jumps from his bed, squawking and flailing his arms. He crumples into a snickering pile on the floor.
Me: “Are you OK?”
DM: “I’m a baby bird, just learning to fly.”
Little does he know… He really is. (Sniff)