I walk in the door, arms loaded down with bags and bags of newly checked out Library books, and Wesley hands me a folded up piece of paper from an old red purse of mine, that he's claimed is his mailbag, and wears crossed over his chest,
"Here's your mail Momma."
"Um...there's nothing on it, Baby"
"...I know, Daddy wouldn't let me write...but it *would* say have fun at the Library Momma."
" H-I-O! What's that spell? BUCKEYES! "
The boys are continually reminded by their Father that they may not ask for chocolate milk in the morning before saying "Good Morning."
" Can I have my choc ... Good Morning Momma. Can I have my chocolate milk? "
" Mommm! Rin hit me! On Accident! "
During Bath Time:
" That was very kind of you Momma. "
" What was very kind of me? "
" Rinsing the soap off of me. "
Me: "Wesley, eat your Peanutbutter Bite (flax ball). "
Wesley: "But Mom, I do not enjoy them."