Camping out

My grandsons and I slept outside in the tent last night. In the morning, I asked D, "What sounds did you hear when we were in the tent?"
He said, "I didn't hear any sounds!"
It's true, he did fall asleep pretty quickly, but even while I was reading to them before we turned off the flashlights, the crickets and the cicadas were nearly deafening. But he apparently didn't notice anything.
Later I asked K what sounds he heard.
He just rolled his eyes. "Crickets, cicadas, airplanes, cars, trucks, trains, car alarms, fire engines..."

Creative accounting

T: Can I have a cookie?
Me: OK
T: I want 2 cookies.
Me: No, just one.
T:(after 2 or 3 minutes of kevtching, eats the cookie.) Can I have another cookie?
Me: No, I told you you couldn't have two cookies.
T: But I don't want two, I only want one!

She needs proof!

Their mother was in labor, so we took the kids to the park when she and Dovid went to the hospital. A few hours later, their father called to tell us that that the baby was born--a boy! His big brothers were appropriately delighted, but T was busy playing in the sandbox so we didn’t say anything about the baby until later, when she asked, “When is Mommy coming home?”
I told her that Mommy was staying at the hospital for a while because the baby came out of her tummy.
“No it didn’t!” T insisted.
I guess she’ll just have to see the evidence for herself when Mommy comes home.

Psychopath-in-Training?

T was playing with play-dough, and as usual asked for a plastic knife and fork. She asked me to make a deer, so I made a generic animal with 4 legs. "No, make a deer," she insisted. So I tried making the animal-shaped creature a little more deer-like, but apparently I was unsuccessful, because T kept insisting, "That's not a deer!" Eventually I realized what the problem was: she wanted me to make not "a deer," but "Adir," who is a boy in her class.
The she asked me to make Adir's baby sister and then their mother. So she now had three vaguely human-shaped play-dough figures, and seemed to be satisfied.
But now the knife and fork come into play: T took the knife and began cutting off Adir's leg.
"What's Adir saying?" she asked me as she sawed through his virtual flesh.
"Um...I don't know, what's he saying?" I answered.
In a high squeaky voice, T exclaimed, "Ow, you're cutting off my leg! No! Ow!" and so on. Then she looked at me and said, "You say it, Bubbie!" I tried to object, but she insisted.
So for the next 10 minutes I had to keep up a steady narration of screams and cries and pleas for mercy as T proceeded to dismember two children and their mother.

T stories

T story #1

Mommy has been trying to teach T to pronounce the S at the beginning of the word "snow," instead of what she now says: "I want to put on my no pants and go outside and play in the no." So she models it for her by saying, "Sssssnow."

Today T was holding a banana, but she dropped it. She said, "Bubbie, can you please give me my babana?" I said, " Not 'Babana'--'banana'. Say 'banana.'" She said, "Babana." I again said, "Banana," saying it slowly and clearly. T listened intently and then said, "SSSSbabana!"

T story #2:


Her mother told me that T threw up a few times last night, but by this morning she seemed fine. I asked her if her tummy hurt last night, and she said yes. Then she said, "D made watermelon juice." I thought she meant, "D had watermelon juice," and I thought that was a little unusual, so I said, "Where did he have it--at home or at school?"
T said, "In the bathroom." Wow, that's even more unusual--but, whatever.

Then she asked me, "What did I make?" I had no idea what she was talking about.

Her mother later told me that D had thrown up a couple of days ago, and T witnessed it, and I'm not sure which kid it was (or maybe it was a parent) decided that the contents of D's stomach looked like watermelon juice. So D made watermelon juice when he threw up, and T wanted to know, after she threw up, "What did I make?"