Franklin: "I, little boy. You, big mommy, (pointing) big mess."
Me: "Are you poopy?"
Franklin: "No, I not poopy"
Me: (checking) "Oh, you're right, you're not poopy. You're a smart boy."
Franklin: "No, I little boy."
Franklin: "Milk. Please."
Me: "You have to wait a minute."
Franklin: "Milk! Please!"
Me: "Just a minute. You're going to have to wait."
Franklin: "Milk! Please!"
Me: "YOU. ARE. GOING. TO. HAVE. TO. WAIT. A. MINUTE!"
Franklin: "NO! MILK! RIGHT! NOW!"
F-R-A-N-K-L-I-N is how we spell trouble around here.
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| Appropriate, isn't it? Thinks he's in the driver's (or pilot's) seat |
When the girls found out we were having a boy, they said "now we'll have our prince to dance with!" He's finally big enough, but he's the one wearing their ballet shoes . . . .
Franklin loves to sing several songs in "staccato", Twinkle, Twinkle is his favorite
3 comments:
I like how you document your conversations. They will get a kick out of these when they are older.
We look forward to getting to know TROUBLE better when we get home.
Too funny. I love it.
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