Thursday, August 11, 2011

Out of the mouth of my babe

Some recent comments from Biscuit:

Story time: When Biscuit tells us a story, he puts his palms together and holds out his hands. Then he opens his hands out like a book and starts to tell us his story. The other night, he got to a point and stopped talking. So I asked him, "Is that the end?" "No, Mom. I still reading." Then he finished "reading" us his story.

A game of hoops: "What are you doing, Biscuit?" Jeff asked as he watched Biscuit slide a small ottoman from the living room through the kitchen into our bedroom.

"I'm trying to get the basketball into the basket net," Biscuit said. He wanted to stand on the ottoman and throw clothes into the dirty clothes hamper.

"Why do you need that foot stool, Biscuit?" Jeff asked.

"That not a foot stool, Dad. It's a wadder." Even so, who uses a ladder to put a basketball into the net?!?

Straight from TV: Jeff and Biscuit were walking up the sidewalk to come in the house. Biscuit had a cute little march going on, and he was saying, "It's fun to go inside. It's fun to go inside. It's fun to go inside, and this is how we do it." That is a direct quote from one of the cartoon shows he likes. Who says kids don't learn from TV?

The eyes have it: Biscuit expresses himself in such literal terms sometimes. He walked into the bathroom with me the other night. I was just grabbing the hand towel, so I didn't even turn on the light. "It's dark in here, Mom. My eyes can't see." Of course, it probably doesn't hurt that last week's theme at day care was the five senses.

Scamming Dad: Jeff took Biscuit for a haircut yesterday evening. Biscuit asked where they were going. "We're going to get you a haircut," Jeff said. "It's time for a haircut."

To which Biscuit replied, "Is it time for a haircut AND Chick-fi-way?" Jeff said yes, then Biscuit said, "Chick-fi-way, here we come!"

Play time: Biscuit's play time is getting more imaginative. He had some little animal figures last night along with a couple of farmers. They were having some grand conversations. Then something happened to one of his horses. He picked it up and walked over to Jeff. "Excuse me. Excuse me, doctor. We need your help."

Jeff turned the horse over and over in his hands, then handed him back to Biscuit. "Okay, he's good to go," Jeff said.

"Thank you, doctor. Thank you for making my horse feel really better," Biscuit said.

Animal kingdom: Biscuit's question for us used to be "what is your favorite animal," but now, he's getting more specific. He asked me just the other day, "Mom, what's your favorite kind of dog?" He doesn't know Labradors or poodles yet, but he does understand big and small and loud and soft and colors. So my answer now can't just be "a dog." It has to be "a big brown dog" or "a small white dog."

He does know more about dinosaurs. He says his favorite is a Dromaeosaurus because it's fast like a horse. But he also knows T-Rex, triceratops and pterodactyl. I love to hear him say the different kinds of dinosaurs. I know he thinks I'm crazy, but I ask him all the time what his favorite dinosaur is, just to hear him say their names.

But he's getting more specific with other animals, too. I handed him a little plastic frog the other night and said, "Check this out, Biscuit. It's a bull frog." He looked at the frog and said, "No, Mom. That a tree frog."

Jeff was flipping through a book with Biscuit the other night. "Hey, dude. Check out that fish," he said to Biscuit.

To which Biscuit replied, "That is not a fiss, Dad. That a humpback whale."

Ham Biscuit: Biscuit loves to be on my bed. It's a king-size bed that's pretty high off the floor. The only way he can get on it is to use a step I have on my side. (The only way I can get on it is to use the step, too!)

When he's on the bed, I walk into the room growling, telling him I'm coming to get him. Then he crawls from one side of the bed to the other to get away from me. This evening, we were playing our little game, and I caught him. I pretended to gnaw on his leg and said, "Mmmm. I like ham bone. Gimme some more of that ham bone."

"NOOOO! My weg is not ham bone. Here, Mom. Here," Biscuit said as he reached into his pocket. "I have some ham bone for you in my pocket. Not on my weg."

Words from Dad: I heard a partial conversation between Jeff and Biscuit tonight. I'm not even going to offer any setup or context.

Jeff said, "You can't play with your poo. You can play with your friends, but you can't play with your poo. And you CERTAINLY can't play with your friends' poo.

Sometimes you just don't want to know.

1 comment:

Kelly said...

Sounds like someone's been watching Yo Gabba Gabba! :D