The other night Ethan (3 1/2) pointed to my eyebrow and asked, "What's it called?" An eyebrow. Then he started rubbing his forhead and got really upset and started shouting "I don't have one!!!" I had to hold his finger and rub his eyebrow and say here it is! Then he said Oh, hehehe... Oh my goodness, I laughed so hard!
Haven (10) and I have been having this ongoing discussion about why she doesn't have to worry that I'm going to run the car into a ditch when we take the back road between Patch and Panzer barracks. She chants to herself, "Mommy is a good driver. We're not going to run into the ditch. There are poles on the side of the road to stop us. Although they are far apart... and our car would fit between them... but NO. We're NOT going to run into the ditch." Right. I tried to tell her that she shouldn't worry so much. That I've been driving for 12 years now. That if it's our time to die we'll go to Heaven and everything will be good. That's not working. So I told her if she worries too much she'll get an ulser. Yes, I know I'm a bad mother. Now she says, "If I worry in my head and not out loud will I still get an ulser?" Yes, of course. (Shut up.) Then she says, "You shouldn't have told me that. Now I'm going to worry about worrying and I'm going to get a hole in my stomach! Does that hurt?" I give up.