On getting up from the table at dinner time:
Me: Michael, where are you going? You have food to eat.
Michael: Mommy, I need to make more room! (Spoken in a very exxasperated tone with his hands flipped up)
Me: How do you make more room?
Michael: First you poop, then you go pee, then you have more room for Macaroni and Cheese.
On going out to eat:
Memaw: Michael, we're going to meet you're mommy for dinner at Bob Evans.
Michael: I don't like Bob Evans. I like Wed Wobin
When I pick him up from daycare and they are on the playground:
Michael: Not yet mommy. I don't want you here. I'm not ready
On drop-off:
Michael: don't weave mommy. Wait 5 minutes until I'm ready.
When I say the F word:
Michael: Mommy. Fuck is a bad word. You shouldn't say fuck. Why did you say fuck? Do you like to say fuck? I'm not allowed to say fuck cuz it's a bad word. Mommy, I don't say fuck. You shouldn't say fuck. Mommy, don't say fuck any more ever again.
Me: OK
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