Our dog Shelby is wearing a cone around her head to help a cut on her nose heal. Today I walked by the bathroom and notice Shelby and Alex inside. Alex has his hands on the ground and his bum in the air. It’s then that I realize he is DIRECTLY in front of Shelby. “Alex, what are you doing?” “I’m trying to fart in to Shelby’s cone!”
No. Words.
Watching Thursday night football. Cole and Alex are racing across the family room throwing the ball and tackling each other. After seeing a good tackle on TV, Cole runs as Alex tries to tackle him.
Apparently Alex didn’t tackle as Cole wanted him to. So Cole says to Alex “Come on Alex, it’s like poop. A big, brown poop.” Alex didn’t respond, so Cole speaks again, “When you’re tackling you’ve got to push it DOWN.”
Football tackles. In metaphor.
As we’ve been remodeling the boy’s bathroom, there have been frequent trips to the paint store. One day was more memorable than others.
First trip of the day I left them in the car. Upon my return they are both standing in the back seat…with pants and underwear down. “What are you guys doing?”
Cole: “Well, Alex had to go potty, so I helped him pee in the water bottle. Then I had to go, so I peed in it too.”
Second trip of the day I take them in with me. As we’re leaving Alex begins to wail. “Alex, what’s wrong?” Alex replies “I’m just going to miss them (the paint store people) soooooooo much.” Cole immediately pops in. “Mom, I can’t wait till I’m a daddy. Then I can tell you what to do all day.”
Best moment of the day:
We’re in Costco and the boys are both seated up in the cart. Alex kept trying to find the straps to hook himself in. Unable to find an end, he starts fussing and begins to quickly escalate. I’m busy and just keeping telling him “shush” without paying too much attention. Finally, he’s so frustrated, he begins screaming. “Give me a hooker. I need a hoooookkkkkeeerrr. Where’s a hooker?”
Alex is a bit obsessed with all things about Jesus and the Cross. The only Bible story he wants to read is the crucifixion story and when we pick up Cole from preschool, we must make our way in to the sanctuary where he stares at the cross. Every day while we sit there quietly he whispers “Why Jesus die?” I’ve tried answering this a hundred different ways, but every day the same question.
Today in the car on the way home from school, he asked again. “Why Jesus die?” Cole, trying to irritate Alex as only a big brother can, answered “Because Jesus loves big Easter trucks!” Alex replies, “No Cole, Jesus loves ME!”