This morning we were lounging on the couch, and Stella chose our rare moment of snuggling to attempt to yack on the rug.
I yelled "Go outside Stella!".
Payne asked "What her do, Mommy?"
"She threw up."
Payne: "Her need a bowl!"
Then he asked me "Mommy, you know you cute?".
Yes, yes I do, son.
(Ok fine. He only asked that because I ask him if he knows he's cute all of the time)
Then we went to the grocery store and he lifted my phone from my diaper bag to take this artistic set of photographs:
I sense some "entitlement of modern youth" commentary here. Hmm. Yes.
A baby shoe juxtaposed with cage-like material. Very deep. Are we ever really free?
Aaaand the only food he recorded was the ice cream. Poignant.
We went to dinner with my parents and on the way home Payne informed my father that he needed to clip the toenails of the dinosaurs at the zoo with his "pwiers" (pliers) and "then they be fixed".
Then my Mom got out of the car to pump gas, telling Payne "I can pump the gas because I'm strong!".
Payne's response: "You OLD".
Thank you, and good night.