Finn: Mom, what did the world look like in the eighties? Was it all white? {Not sure if he thinks it was some kind of bad sci fi futuristic planet 20 years ago or what??}
Me: Well, it looked a lot like it does now.
Finn: Well, were you a grown up?
Me: No, I was a kid.
Finn: And Punka was a kid too?
Me: Yep.
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Me {to Tate}: Want to go shopping with Aunt J? We get to go to Costco while Finn is at school.
Finn: Um, WHY do you guys get to have fun and I get to have NO fun?
Me: School is fun!
{Followed by an eye roll from Finn.}
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Finn: What are you doing?
Dave: Reading a story about an aggressive turkey in Detroit.
Finn: Huh?
Dave: You know turkey that we eat at Thanksgiving? That is a picture of a turkey. It is chasing someone around.
Finn: Do we eat that kind of turkey? The aggressive kind?
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We have questionable neighbors across the busy road by our house, there are 83 of them... or they have a lot of visitors very often. They refuse to mow their lawn and spend and extraordinary amount of white trash time on the porch, just sitting there in the morning, the middle of the day, the evening, at night... you get the jist. They don’t really have a porch sitting porch, but they’ve made it a porch sitting porch with a hodgepodge of junk to sit on. Recently, the weather has warmed up.
Finn: There they go again. Out on the porch smoking and talking. DAD! Dad, go by their house and honk the horn at em. Tell em to get off that porch.
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Me: I can’t believe you’re going to be FIVE! I don’t want you to get big!
Finn: Well, don’t worry Mom, I will still love you when I am five…
Finn: and six and seven and eight and nine and ten and eleven and twelve and thirteen. And that’s it.
Dave: That sounds about right.
Me: What??
Finn: You get thirteen years. Don’t worry, you still have TayTay. See? She will love you.
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Finn: Mom, this shirt is too big, look.
Me: Well you have your pack on your shoulder and it’s puling it over.
Finn: {takes the pack off} Look!
Me: Yeah, it is kind of big, isn’t it?
Finn: {He pulls the shirt up.} Belly shirt! {Then he pulls the neck down. To his credit, it is way too big.} Mom, look at my nipple. Nipple time. Nipple party.
9 comments:
That little boy of yours is hilarious!
That kid is hilarious. Seriously.
I love him more than I should.
Finnisms are my favorite. Love him!
love him...
I am dying! Nipple time/party. OMG. I can't stop laughing!
13 years? Nipple time? Drive by the neighbors and honk? Rolling his eyes at school?
Put your seat belt on, this kid is going to give you the ride of your life! (or you'll just be a puddle from laughing so hard.) He is really hilarious :)
Consider it a good thing we live states away from each other because I can tell you very matter-of-factly that if I ever saw you in public I would yell, "Nipple time. Nipple party." This kid is too much.
Ha! Anthony gave me an awesome quote today.
I was telling him how I couldn't find the good Easter sweet tarts (the chicks and bunnies, y'know?), and he then says:
Ant: "Liz, why couldn't you find the retards?"
Me: "WHAT? *dies laughing* Honey, it's SWEET TARTS."
Ant: "Ohh."
I nearly lost it at "nipple party." I love Finnisms!
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