The Things Boys Say

In an effort to bring my blog up-to-date after a two-month hiatus (can you say "Post-Christmas Catch-Up?), I will be posting a series of Leone family moments and highlights...

Let's start off with a peek at a conversation around the breakfast table a few days ago.

Mom, carrying a basket of laundry through the kitchen:
"Dad did laundry for me this morning. Isn't that nice?"

William (7): "He's such a dude!"

Andrew (3): "Do you know what 'dude-ish' means? It means super macho and super powerful and super rock and roll."


For the record, we do try to instill eloquence and becoming speech around here.

The Mutterings of Children

Joe and I are busy reading in the family room while the kids are upstairs playing "ghost tag" with flashlights. Suddenly a scream pierces the household. Twenty-two month old Therese has bitten eleven-year-old Anna Marie.

In calm, reporter-like fashion, seven-year-old William is heard to mutter, "Oh dear, oh dear. Now we have a travesty going on."

The Candy Man

I asked Andrew yesterday what he is going to be when he grows up.

He replied, without any hesitation, "A candy character."

"What's a candy character?" I asked.

"A guy who gives out candy, of course," exclaimed little Andrew.

I've learned something new today. Here's hoping that Andrew saves the Heath Bars for me.

Taking Back His Words

We were having a simple lunch of bean and cheese quesadillas today. As I was spreading the refried black beans on the tortilla, three-year-old Andrew came along, took one look, and exclaimed,

"Eeeew! That looks like cat poo..." [stopping himself before the final consonant]

[pause, quick mental check]...

"Um, Mom, I didn't actually say that..."

[another pause, wheels rapidly turning]...

"I love you soooo much, Mom."

Nice save, little guy.

Takin' His Mama Along...

My six-year-old son, William, and I were having a conversation today about growing up. He said that when he grows up, he wants to live right next door to his mom and dad.

"Wow, William, you want to live next to me? That's so nice!" I exclaimed.

William's response: "Yeah but, just so you know, you'll have to live in Djibouti."

I guess we're moving to Africa.

Oh my Gosh!!! Ewwwwwwwwww!!!

These are the cries I hear coming from the master bathroom this morning. I dash upstairs to see what is wrong. William, my six-year-old, is sputtering, "I -- I -- I got yucky girl stuff on meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Upon examination, he had the slightest drop of makeup on the palm of his hand (due to his rummaging through my makeup drawer).

This boy is bound for manly manhood.