not good

me: i'm not feeling so good today.

the pt: neither is the fish, and he's dead.

All the Rage

The PT (age 6): Behold, Curly! I feel the rage to jump on you!

Curly (13): Huh?

The PT: YAAAAAAAH!

Curly: AHHHHH!

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The PT: I feel the rage for some pancakes. Fudge, can you give me some pancakes?

Fudge: ?

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The PT: I have the rage to sit on the blue chair.

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The PT: I have the rage for some milk.

Iguana: Uhhh...you want milk?

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The PT: Uh...HELLO?? Whoever's in the bathroom?? I feel the rage to use the bathrooooooom!!

Wildlife

I'm going back in time here to something that made me smile about a year and a half ago when Andy was a couple of months old and I started bathing him on the bath sling with Ann next to him in the big bath.

Ann (a little more than 2 and a half at the time): Is the new baby a zoo animal or a farm animal?

Me: What? Your brother is not an animal at all. (Yet . . .)

Ann: But I think he's like a pet.

Me: Why?

Ann: Because look, he has a little tail!



Don't hate me one day for sharing this one, kids!

Courtship

Chana (8): Daddy, do I have to wait til I'm married to date?

Me: You have to date before you get married.

Chana: Well Sharon's mother said that she can't date until she's done with college and married.

Me: I think Sharon's mom was just joking.

Chana: Oh. (beat) Perhaps in college I'll find a boy I can admire.

Tipping His Hand

This may be the best story ever...

Ben (4) to his mother (Imma): I don't like getting angry because then I get punished. Well, only if Daddy's taking care of me. He'll put me in time out or something. If it's you then you'll tell me to act nicely next time. But if you're not home or in the bathroom or sleeping, I'll get punished.

Imma: So you think you can act angry when I'm taking care of you because I'm not going to punish you?

Ben (realizing he just tipped his hand): Don't worry, Imma. I'll forget that I said that. I love you Imma! I won't forget that I said that!

Wrong foot

Ada (2 1/2) is all too familiar with the experience of trying to put her shoe on the wrong foot. She usually figures it out when she realizes she is having way too much trouble than would normally be expected from a harmless velcro shoe. The other day she was trying to put on her sock by herself and the sock just didn't seem to want to cooperate. She turned to me in frustration and asked, "It's the wrong foot?"