Billie: “Mom. That baby is screaming. He screamed right in my ear.”
Me: “That’s what babies do, dude. You’re the one who wants a baby brother. If you had one- that’s what would happen. He would scream in your ear.”
Billie: “No. That’s not what I want. I want a baby that would scream in *your* ear. And I would just love him and put him in my machine that makes him a puppy dog.”
Me: “Why don’t you just ask for another puppy dog?”
Billie: “Because a puppy- dog- brother- baby is cooler. And I wanna see your belly grow big.”
I can’t tell if she’s a total creeper or a mad scientist.
Billie: “I wish I could be a dog so I can sniff things closer and dig lower like a dog. And lick the rain petals. I would lick all the rain dry.”
FLASHBACK: February 11, 2014
Me: “Dude. How is our dog always ending up with Cheez-its in her crate?”
Billie: “Well, mommy. I think her was hungry.”
Me: “If *she* was hungry, she can eat her doggy food. I mean, this bag was opened so cleanly.”
Billie: “She opened it with her doggie claws.”
Me: “Oh, yea? Did she also magically levitate to the top shelf of the pantry to retrieve the bag of Cheez-its from the closed box?”
Billie: “No. She got her doggie friends to come in here and make her steps and she walked up to the top shelf, opened the box with her teef, and got the bag.”
Me: “…Billie. Is there anything you want to tell me?”
Billie: (thinks a moment) “Yes. Jazzie’s doggie friends also ate the cake in the refrigerator and den frew your shoes in the trash.”
It was my last good pair of shoes, too. The others have *magically disappeared* as well. I’m going to have to ban all imaginary doggie friends in order to keep my wardrobe in tact.
Also: my kid totally went to school with a belly full of cake and Cheez-its this morning. Sigh.
A+ parenting, ya’ll.