Rob: “Would you like some mushrooms?”
Milo: “NO WAY!”
Morris: “Blech! Blech! Blech!”
Rob: “They’re cooked in butter and garlic.”
Milo: “GARLIC???”
Morris: “Blech! Blech! Blech!”
Rob: “They’ll keep the vampires away.”
Milo: “I know. Wait – are vampires real?”
Morris: “Vampires! Yeah!”
Milo: “Mom, do you think that people are made on the gods’ Wiis?”
Milo, speaking to himself in the back of the car: “Seth… that’s a weird name. Seth, Seth, Seth… Seth, the EVIL CHILD of DOOM.”
[Pause.]
Milo: “No, that’s a bad name.”
Me: “You think Seth, the Evil Child of Doom is a bad name? I’m surprised.”
Milo: “No, Poopy Bum Baby Butt is a bad name. Seth the Evil Child of Doom is a GREAT name.”
Morris: “Mommy, I have another house. It’s far, far away.”
Me: “It is?”
Morris: “Uh huh. It’s far, far away in Cedar Grove.”
Me: “What’s it like?”
Morris: “It’s got a blue roof. And it’s got a yellow roof. And it’s got a red roof, too.”
Me: “What’s it like inside?”
Morris: “Blackish.”
Morris: “Once I got roll-dozered and I died but then I turned into a boy named Morris. Not Milo. Because he’s my older brother. Right, Milo?”
Milo sticks his foot into the air: “‘Right,’ says my stinky sock monster!”
Morris: “I still have my owee!”
Me: “Hmm?”
Rob: “He has a scratch on his hand but I don’t know how he did it.”
Morris: “I think aliens did it.”
Me: “Aliens, huh?”
Morris: “Yep! Daddy didn’t do it, and you didn’t do it, and Milo didn’t do it.”
Me: “So it had to have been aliens?”
Morris: “Yep!”
Morris: “I’m strong.”
Me: “Yes, you are.”
Morris: “I can lift the house up.”
Me: “You can?”
Morris: “Yep… Mommy, can you help me?”
Me: “Help you what?”
Morris: “Lift the house up.”
Me: “I don’t know, sweetie. The house is pretty big.”
Morris: “And then it would fall and you would say, ow! It hurt! Then I would kiss you and you would feel all better. Okay?”
Morris: “I want to be a Power Ranger. Then you wouldn’t hug me because I would have a sword.”
Milo: “Mom, I have the power to throw you into a different universe.”
Me: “Oh? And what universe are you going to throw me into?”
Milo: “Mars.”
Morris, watching a commercial on TV: “Are those mommies?”
Me: “Yes! And do you know what mommies love most of all?”
Morris: “What?”
Me: “Their little boys!”
Morris: “And boys love their hoses.”
