What Do You Think I Am, A Grown-Up?

(Left to right) ManChild, Princess, Fairy

From the mouths of babes:

Returning home from the daily daycare pick up, this nugget fell out of the Fairy's mouth (directed at the ManChild):

"What do you think I am, a grown-up? I'm only five years old!"

MC: "Well, that means you're a grown-up. Riiiiiight Daddy?"

(Never giving me a chance to answer) F: "You're crazy, I'm in kindergarten."

MC: "Well, you're older than me and daddy says I'm a big boy, so you're a grown-up!"

F: "Daddy's not a grown-up!"

PI (finally getting a chance to chime in): "Did your mother tell you that?" What can I say, my wife has four children and I only have three. Bless her heart.

The Princess has had a touch of the flu, this is but one of the "Diarrhea Dialogs":

P: "Mommy, I just went poopie and it was gold!"

Vixen, without missing a beat: "If my poop was gold, I'd take it to the bank."

P: "Not REAL gold mommy. The color! C'mere, I'll show you."

No thanks. Go flush, please.

The ManChild refused to eat dinner, so I had to re-heat his pizza for him. His response, and having ridden shotgun with Pseudo, leaves little doubt where he learned this.

MC: "Daddy, my pizza is too hot!"

PI: "It'll cool off; blow on it."

MC: "You cooked it too long, you idiot!" The Vixen and I nearly peed our pants before we dealt with that one...

I know that when the going gets tough, the tough get going. Me, I just look back and ask: "What do you think I am, a grown-up?

My poor kids; I learn as much from them as they do from me...