My youngest son is something of a ham. An ornery, grinning, lovable little 3-year-old who unintentionally says some very funny things.
Last night at supper he was eating cocktail sauce with his shrimp, and I asked if he wanted more ketchup for his french fries. His response: "It's not ketchup, it's shrimp mustard!" It cracked us up. I thought it was clever of him to liken the spicy horseradish in the cocktail sauce to mustard.
While trying to wrestle him into his new sandals last week, he vehemently shouted, "I can't wear these. They're too comfortable!"
While trying to get him to drink his new almond milk (his new non-dairy diet, remember), he screeched: "I don't want this milk! It's too yummy!"
On Sunday when he was watching his first-ever movie in a movie theater, Lightning McQueen (the red race car from the Cars movies) came on screen and Bo raised his chubby little arm into the air and proclaimed: "Lightning McQueen is awesome! He's so awesome!"
While riding in the minivan with me and cousin Jenny yesterday, Bo asked: "Where's brother Mazy? Where is brother Mazy?"(It made me laugh. A lot. I kept picturing Mazy as a little bald-headed, brown-robed monk.)