Sweet Boy#2–Burst into tears because his brothers and cousins would not let him into their imaginary acid pit.
Sweet Boy#3–Eating Camas root with his brothers and a rubber snake in the bathtub.–“Snaky ate all of it…and I just ate a little bit…sob sob sob Aaaaaahhh!” Toys can be so inconsiderate about hogging the food.
I have a dream in which I am forced to wander around some unknown and ridiculously fancy house in search of my three boys as a flock of rabid bear prowl through the rooms in hopes of devouring us all…
I wake Sweet Boy#2 up for Momma Movie Night. And he simply clutches at his covers, “No, Momma…I’m still sleepy.” Until I whisper that it is his Momma Movie Night into his sleepy little ear and he leaps out of bed, hops into the bean bag, and proceeds to watch “Tom and Jerry” with me while snorking down a fair helping of Cookie Salad. Good times.
Sweet Boy#3–I am chastising him for some crime or another and he makes a TV remote out of Knex, points it at me and says: “Brzzzz, I pressed the button which makes you not talk!”
Sweet Boy#3–One of those scary parent moments. My little guy got hurt on the slide at the playground, I pull him up on my lap and pat the back of his head. My hands comes away bloody. Ahhhhh! But phew, head wounds bleed so much. It is barely a scratch.