The Last Fifteen Minutes

Small Fry:  Auntie J, she won't let me ride the horsie!

Me: Medium Fry, why can't she ride the horse?

Medium Fry:  Because she's knocking the dominoes off!

Me, knowing I'm going to regret asking:  Why are there dominoes on the horse?

Medium: Because he needs teef!


Oy.


Not three minutes later...

Medium Fry:  Auntie J, my awrm huwrts!

Me, sure I'm going to regret this one too: Why does your arm hurt?

Medium: Because I bwop myseff!

Me:  You what?


Medium slaps her upper right arm with her left hand: I did dis, and dat's bwopping myseff!  An' it huwrts!

Me:  Well, don't do that to yourself then.


I'm not done relating the first part of this series of conversations when Medium Fry starts having a cow again.

Medium: Auntie J, Small Fry is going [inaudible], and dat's a baby wowrd!

Me:  What?

Small Fry, in the background, shouting happily over everyone:  Me me me me me me me me me me!

Medium: She's saying "me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me" and dat's a baby word!

Okay, so admittedly, we are having issues with Small Fry insisting on babbling in baby talk rather than articulating like the almost-four-year-old she is.

Me:  Small Fry, use more words than just "me."


Naturally, not to be outdone, two minutes later....

Large Fry, rushing up to me where I'm sitting at my desk: Auntie J, Medium Fry is eating dominoes!

Me:  Medium, don't eat dominoes!

Medium Fry:  I'm NOT!


Yep, it's been one of those kind of nights.