Things my Two-Year-Old Taught Me: XXV

In lieu of a tangible lesson my two-year-old taught me recently, I would like to share with you a sampling of conversations between said two-year-old and the people in my life - with the morals I’ve learned from each one.  (If you are a facebook friend, you have read many of these already, as I often use them as my status.)

(Sitting in church, during the main meeting... the teenage brother/sister pair ahead of us were acting like typical siblings)

bug: That man hit that girl!

me: Shhhh...

bug: He hit her!  What he do that for?

me: He was just teasing.

bug: We don’t hit!

Wrong is wrong.  Right is right.  There is no “gray area.”

me: Are you excited to sleep in your new sleeping bag?
bug: Yep! 

me: It’s cool, huh?
bug: I'm a lucky boy.

Ah, it’s the simple things...

(At the store, referring to a fellow customer)

bug: He has a mustache!

me: Yep.

bug: What he have a mustache for?

me: Some people like mustaches.

bug: I have a mustache too!

me: No, I don’t think you do.

bug: Well, I WANT a mustache.

Don’t we all want what we can’t have???

(Took a walk through an upscale residential neighborhood)
me: Ooo, mr, I like that house!
mr: mmm-hmmmm... (pretty much ignoring me...)
me: or that one! I'll take that house!
bug: You already HAVE a house.

Always the voice of reason, that one. He is his father's son.

bug: my pants are falling down!
me: why?
bug: (offhand) oh, because of grabity.

Thanks to mr, our kids will definitely be science nerds.

(During the opening prayer at church)
bug: Who is that man?
mr: That's President Kindt.
bug: He's praying.
mr: Yes. Shhh.
bug: he's a good boy! Good boy for praying, man!

Lots of praise makes even the most unwilling Stake President want to pray.

bug: I want my cookie now!
me: who said you could have a cookie?
bug: I did!

So, bug’s boss around here now.

bug: My shoe is black!
me: Actually, it's navy blue.
bug: Yep, and maybe black, too.

What does “NAVY” blue mean, anyway?  Where did that come from?

(At my Grandma’s funeral, after explaining what a funeral is...)
bug: I want to go see the birds.
mr: What birds?
bug: The ones inside the hall.
mr: Um, I don't think there are birds inside.
bug: (Glum) Oh. They passed away.

Perhaps death is a bit abstract for two...

(On Daddy’s birthday, we took a picnic to his work.)
me: bug, do you have something to say to Daddy?
bug: Happy birthday Daddy! (hands him some bark from a tree) Here's some wood, I got it for you!

A cheap present is better than no present.

(Trying to distract bug from imprisonment in his car seat)

me: Look! Horses!!
ezra: Those ARE horses. Good job mommy! You're so smart.
me: Um. Thanks.

Smart for a two year old and smart for a mommy aren't necessarily the same.

bug: Put the corn in the microphone!
me: In the what??
bug: In the MICROPHONE!
me: Why in the world would I do that?
bug: To make it hot!
me: Do you mean microWAVE?
*PAUSE*

bug: Um... yeah.

So if the corn goes in the microPHONE, what’s the microWAVE for?

(While I was talking nonsense to mini)

me: What do you think about that?
bug: (Putting his hand on my shoulder and looking at me seriously) Mommy, mini can't talk yet.
me: That's true.
bug: (nodding) Don't worry. She will soon.

He’s so rational.  He can always calm my fears.

me: do you want spaghetti?

bug: no, I want yogurt.
me: man cannot live on yogurt alone!
bug: Well, I'm NOT a man.

Again, rational wins out.

(bug’s new favorite question is "what is ____ for?" All day long... "what is she for?" "What is the car for?" "What is this book for?" "What is yellow for?"...)

bug: What is the dinosaur for?
me: I don't know. What are YOU for?
bug: To play! To have fun!

Now we know his philosophy on life.

(Looking at a picture on the computer)

bug: What's that?
me: It's a special picture of a baby in a mama's belly.
*PAUSE*
bug: Did the mama eat that baby??

This is how children are traumatized early in life.

AND FINALLY:

(As mr strapped him in the car)
bug: I need my nose wiped!
mr: I don't have a wipe. Can you wait until we get home?
bug: I'll just use my tongue.

Boys are gross.

What?? What???  Isn't that what a tongue is for???