A few things Biscuit has said recently:
Word choice: We went out for dinner last night, and on our drive home, Jeff burped out loud.
"DAD!" Biscuit said. "That's unacceptable!"
Jeff and I laughed, but then Biscuit got an odd look on his face.
"Mom, is that the word I wanted to use? Unacceptable? Or is it unexpected?" Biscuit said.
"Well, unacceptable means that something is wrong," I said. "And unexpected means that something happened suddenly, like a surprise."
Biscuit thought for a second, then said, "Mom! It was both of those things. It was unexpected AND unacceptable."
He speaks the truth.
A mom's secret: "Mom, do all moms really have eyes in the back of their heads?" Biscuit asked.
"We don't really have extra eyeballs," I told Biscuit. "That just means that moms know what's going on whether we see it or not."
"How can you do that?" Biscuit asked.
"Well, let's say I'm sitting in my rocking chair in the living room, and you're in the kitchen. And you decide to have some goldfish," I told him. "I would know that you were having goldfish, even if I couldn't see you."
"But Mom, how would you know?" Biscuit asked. "Would you sneak into the kitchen and see me?"
"Nope," I said. "Where do we keep the goldfish?"
"In the cabinet," Biscuit said. It's actually a pantry with a regular door.
"I would hear you open and close the door," I said. "And then I would hear the goldfish rattling around in the carton. And then I would hear the goldfish pouring into the bowl. And then I would hear you crunching. All of those things would tell me that you were eating goldfish, and I never even went into the kitchen."
"Wow, Mom," Biscuit said. "You're just like a spy!"
"That is true," I said to Biscuit. "So just remember, if you do something, I'll know about it."