Out of the mouth of my babe

A few things Biscuit has said recently:


Car show: We took Jeff's parents to an indoor car show Saturday afternoon, and on the way over, Biscuit decided that we were all riding in an airplane.

"Dad, you're the pilot," Biscuit said. "And Grandpa, you're the co-pilot." I'm guessing they got picked because they were in the driver's seat and passenger seat, respectively.

Jeff asked Biscuit how he was supposed to start.

"You have to say, 'Passengers, we're clear for takeoff,'" Biscuit told Jeff.

"Okay, Roger," Jeff said.

"No, Dad," Biscuit said. "My name isn't Roger. I'm just Griffin because I'm a passenger."

"Roger that," Jeff said, just to pick on Biscuit.

"Dad, nooooo," Biscuit said. He was starting to whine.

"When Dad says 'roger', that's like saying 'okay' or 'I understand,'" I explained to Biscuit.

That seemed to satisfy him for a little while, until he told Jeff something else a pilot would do.

"Roger that," Jeff said.

By then, Biscuit was downright annoyed. He clearly didn't remember what I had told him.

"DAD! I AM NOT ROGER!" Biscuit said. Luckily, we weren't far from the show, and the plane came in for a landing.

Biscuit still asks to take a nap on weekend days. So when I told him we were going to the car show Saturday afternoon, his first question was, "Can I still take a nap?"

I told him I'd put him down at noon, wake him up at 1:30, then we could be at the show by 2 p.m. The one thing I didn't factor in was Biscuit's lunch. He went down so early, he didn't want lunch before his nap. So I fixed him a sack lunch and took it with us.

When we got to the coliseum, I told Jeff that if I couldn't take Biscuit's food inside, I would sit with him in the lobby until he was done eating, then meet them inside.

I walked up to the ticket taker and said, "I have a sack lunch for my son in my bag. Is it okay to take it in or does he need to eat it out here?"

"Well, he's supposed to eat it out here," the man said. Then he glanced over to where Biscuit was standing. "Is that him? ... The little guy?"

"Yeah, that's him," I said. "He had to have a nap before we came, so he didn't have time to eat his lunch."

The man smiled at Biscuit, then smiled at me. "Go on and take it in," he said with a wink.

So as Jeff and his parents perused the flea market area, Biscuit and I camped out in a corner to people watch and let him eat his lunch.

After a few people had gone by, he looked at me with this wistful look on his face and said, "Mom, it's beautiful to see all these people and cars today."

I swear, that kid was born in the wrong decade.


Transportation: I'm not sure where either of these things came from, but Biscuit declared that he would like to visit a big city and ride some things they have there.

"Mom, I would like to visit a big city like Lost Angela and ride the subway and a submarine," Biscuit said, out of nowhere.

"Well," I said, not even sure where to start. "Los Angeles doesn't have a subway, but maybe we can go to Atlanta sometime and ride the one there. As for a submarine, I'm not sure they let just anybody ride on those.

I guess I should feel proud of his answer because clearly, he thinks I hold the world in my hands. He said, "Mom, I know you'll find one for me to ride."

No pressure there.