Conversation with my daughter regarding school conferences:
Me: “Your teacher said you talk while she’s talking. That’s disrespectful.”
Dizzle: “My brain tells me to do it.”
Me: “Well don’t listen to your brain.”
Dizzle: “It’s in charge of me.”
Me: “No, I am in charge of you.”
Dizzle: “Well, you’re not with me in school and my brain is.”
Told.
Life advice from big sis to little bro: “Never touch a skunk or you’ll be the smelly kid.”
I’m pretty confident that my kid was the only one who showed up for picture day wearing a cutoff baseball shirt.
Me to Dizzle: “I’m really proud to be your mama.”
Dizzle to Me: “Yeah, I’m really proud to be your sister.
Eh, close enough.
Dizzle: “I was being fantastic. That means I said it in a funny voice and I didn’t really mean it.”
Reason why my daughter is crying: Booski said to her “You smell like a buttcwack.”
Getting your picture taken with your little brother is not as fun as getting your picture taken with your big sister.
Dizzle (while trying to teach a neighbor friend to dance): “No, no, no. You have to wave your arms in the air like you just don’t care.”
Sometimes I’m pretty certain that my daughter is a genius. And then I get a call from daycare telling me that she put rock salt up her nose.
I think my newly potty trained Booski just used the “sandwich approach” with me. We’re on our way to the gym and all in a fast sentence, he says “I lub you so mush Mommy I just pooped my pants I lub you so mush.”
