Conversation with the Girl:
G: "Mewn op, Mama!"
Me: "Yep, the moon is up. What does Papa call the moon?"
G: "POOPYHAD MEWN!"
M: "La lune, sweetie."
G: "La lewn! Sawie, la lewn."
The Boy had a great idea during bedtime snack last night: "Hey Mama! We should write a story about me! And it could be just like "Farmer Boy"! And we could say how I ate my slimy cantelope and it was sooooo good!"
Tonight, he had a meltdown after art class. On the way home, after about 5 minutes of jaggy crying, he suddenly sobs, "And I don't even care that it's almost Christmas! I don't mind if I get a big gigantic chunk of coal! I don't even want Christmas! I won't even open my presents, even if I get them!"