Say Wha? v. 2

Troy: "o-r-a-n-g-e, that's what orange spells."

Ty: "what's buried?"
Troy: "like when you bury up a cow"

Our babysitter who goes to church with us asked Troy how much halloween candy he got. He said, "about a million."

Jeremy had his gallbladder out Wednesday. Same girl asked Troy why Jeremy and I weren't at church Wednesday night
Troy: "daddy's got holes in his stomach"
Amy: "did you put your finger in them?"
Troy: "no, they're not big enough"

Ty: "We did cheers in the gym today."
Me: "did you holler loud?"
Ty: "Everybody else did. I plugged my ears."

Say Wha?

They say that imitation is the highest form of flattery. If that is so, my friend Deanna at Delirious Rhapsody should be feeling pretty good right now. She does a weekly deal called Gage says, where she relates all the hilarious things her son says and does. This kid is something else. You should really check it out! Anyway. I have decided to do the same, if for no other reason to have a record of how my kids crack me up for myself. For example:

When I was pregnant with Audrey, Troy told me, "you need to stop eating so much. Baby sissy is getting too big."

Ty: Milk looks like lightning.
Me: How are milk and lightning the same?
Ty: They are both white. Milk is white, and when a storm comes, lightning is white.

Ty calls the video "Mater's Tall Tales," "Mater the Tattle Tales"

(about a year ago) After Troy asked for his third thing to ready one morning, I asked him if he was growing. He got very sad and said, "no." I said, "you must be, the way you are eating!" To which he answered, "I'm trying, but I just keep peepeeing and poopooing!"

We passed a house where they had made a huge scarecrow out of round hay bales. Troy said, "Ty! Look! Look at that big hay snowman!"

And Audrey is at the point where it is funny to just say, "Moma! Moma! Moma!" Over and over.

Ok, so you may not think my kids are as silly as I think they are, but they come up with crazy stuff!

I Just Thought My Heart Beat Fast

Nothing like having a police officer knock on your door to make your pulse go up.

Like mine needs any help breaking the speed limit.

You automatically think the worst. Someone has had an accident or something else really bad.
(Also keep in mind my house is almost half a mile off the road, so chances are he isn't at the wrong house.)

Not at my house.

He just knocks on the door and says "Jeremy's not at home, is he?" No, I'm sorry, he's not. He hands me his business card. "If you don't mind tell him to call me. I had talked to him about getting some gravel." I sure will. Sheesh. Alright, heart. You can slow down to your normal speeding and get out of the reckless driving zone.

You just never know what is going to happen here.

Did I mention it was right before I was about to get in the shower, so I had my hair all pulled back, make up smeared under my eyes...you know. The works when you are a SAHM of 3. And the boys looked like little orphans. They both were in just a pair of shorts and had been eating oreos and koolaid. You can only imagine.

P.S. The boys were not concerned at all that there was a police officer at our house (possibly due to the fact our brother-in-law is a police officer), but were very concerned about the unmarked car he was driving not having lights on top of it. Go figure.