Conversational: Tidbits I'd Hate to Forget, but that You Don't Need to Read About

EVERETT:

After picking Joel up for lunch, we were driving along and discussing some work-related matters when suddenly Everett speaks out from the back seat.

"Mommy! Mommy! Watch the road! Don't turn your head around and talk. Watch the road!"

I explained that I was watching the road, but the chiding tone remained in his voice as he asked me once more to comply with his demands.

* * * *

The other night at the table, Everett moved his dinner around on his plate with his fork, took a bite, and exclaimed, "Mom! This dinner is incredible!"

I laughed. "Everett," I said, "What does 'incredible' mean?"

"You know, Mom, like the robot." (Everett was apparently thinking about the robot(s) in the movie The Incredibles. I'll take this as a compliment.)

* * * * *

I'm sitting on the couch while Everett is eating a small piece of cake. He comes into the living room with a satisfied look on his face, grins, and announces:

"Mom, that cake was dewicious!"

"You liked it, huh?"

"Yeah," he grins and shrugs helplessly, as though he couldn't help himself.

What can I say? The boy knows how to flatter his mother.

ASHLEY:

Longest sentence yet:

"Oh no! I left my puzzle pieces upstairs!"

Also: New favorite book? There's a Nightmare in my Closet by Mercer Mayer. She sleeps with it in her bed--an odd place for a book about a nightmare--and asks for me to read it to her every day. ("Nightmare, Mommy! Wead Nightmare, Pweeeeeeeeease!)

WILLIAM:

The poor guy was absolutely exhausted. I fed him, put Ashley to bed, and returned downstairs to see that he couldn't even begin to know what to do with himself.

I began to swaddle him in a blanket, and as we made eye contact, he laughed.

"He he he he!" he chuckled, sounding very tired and very relieved that I was finally getting him to the state he wanted to be in.

Me too, kid. Me too.