Confessions of a Three-Year-Old

(Courtesy of Mary over at NotBefore7)
The little monkey has had a lot to say this week. He is now participating in "grown up talk." Like when we are sitting together at the table for a nice leisurely lunch, he says things like, "So how was your day mom?"
And when I proceed to ask him how his day is going he'll say something like, "I've had a hard day. I had lots of work to do."
"Oh, what kind of work?"
"Playing Transformers."

Or now when hubby goes into his room to give him hugs in the morning before he leaves for work, Kaydn Rye says, "Have a good day dad."

And my little terrorist has finally come to the official realization that I am THE MASTER. Just the other day I told him to start picking up his pile o' toys on the floor in his room before bedtime and he put his palms together, bowed and said, "Yes master."
I said, "Yes little padawan, I am your master."

Oh, and all the sugar they feed him at preschool has really brought some crazy stuff out of his mouth. All the moms have to take turns bringing snacks and I always bring stuff like banana mini-muffins or trail mix, you know, something without a whole lot of sugar. They have preschool in the mornings after all. What kind of kids should have sugar in the morning? Well let's just say that apparently not all the moms agree with my philosophy about sugar in the morning, and a lot of times they'll have cookies or even brownies in the morning. The one time they had ice cream. What in the world?

And I can always tell when they have had sugar in their snacks because when I get there to pick him up, it is like a crazy nut house. The one time there was a kid who was literally trying to jump off the wall. Last Monday was one of those days. They had just come back from a two week vacation, which I'm still miffed about by the way, (why in the heck wouldn't we get some kind of discount for the month??), but anyway, it was an absolute nuthouse when I got there. And when we got home and sat down for lunch Kaydn Rye noticed that I had cut my finger on something (I can't remember for the life of me) while he was gone, so I had a band-aid on.

He was still crazy when we sat down for lunch (no nice and leisurely lunch that day) so I asked him, "Did you have sugar for snacks today? Is that why you're so crazy?"

He replied, "No, I didn't have any sugar (meaning, it probably was in the double fudge brownies but he didn't actually have a scoop-full of actual sugar). And you're the one who's being crazy and cutting your fingers off while I'm at preschool. So you're the crazy one."

Too funny.



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