Eating lunch the other day (spagetti, or ussgetti, as he calls it), Charlie was licking his hand. He looked at Christian and said, "My hand is like a popcicle."
Charlie, about his drink: "Does it have a straw?"
Me: "yes."
Charlie: "Do you like straws?"
Me: "yes"
Charlie: "And, I like milk and lemonade. And, I like yellow eggs, and I like you."
Last week, after a stomach bug Charlie was feeling a bit better. He was sitting on my lap and being pretty snuggly and mellow. Out of the blue he said to me, appauled, "Ugh, Mommy, what's that smell?"
I told him, "Honey, I think it's your bummy."
Charlie perked right up, and with a lot of attitude said, "Well, maybe it's your bummy!"
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