My kid has a tendency to wander off while in the store. While she has promised not to this time, she forgets her promise, starting to wander again.

Me: “[Kid], get back here and stay by the cart! You promised!”

[Kid] dutifully comes over to the cart.

Me: “Thank you!”

I turn my back to the cart to look at a rack that has winter pants on it. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the cart start to move. In her cleverness, [Kid] has decided she can both wander off and stay with the cart.

Me: “Get back here! That’s not what I meant!”

Thus caught, [Kid] behaved for the rest of the trip.

Related:
Technically Correct: The Best Kind Of Correct

I was babysitting my friend’s kids, and we had all just come back from the park. The oldest retreated to her room as she often does, and I started entertaining the younger. I had worked up a sweat having to carry the youngest on my shoulders and his bike up the hill to the house, so I decided to strip off my shirt to cool down some. I figured a two-year-old boy wasn’t going to complain if the man watching him showed off his non-abs for a little while.

However, the kid found my naked belly amusing and started playing with my belly button. Surprisingly, he managed to notice the tiny, white — and usually nearly impossible to see — scar running along the length of my belly button and asked me what it was. So, I was obliged to try to explain that I had donated a kidney to a child around his age a long time ago, even though I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t fully understand.

Me: “So, now that boy has the two kidneys he always had and my kidney, meaning he gets three kidneys and I only have one.”

My friend’s son is still learning to talk, and to be honest, I only get about two-thirds of what he is saying, so this is just my best attempt to translate his babble.

Kid: “Me have three kidneys.”

Me: “You do?! Why do you get three?”

Kid: “Me have them!”

Me: “Well, if you have an extra kidney, I think you should share one with me. Then we would each have two.”

Kid: “No, my kidney.”

Me: “You’re not going to share?! But you have three, and I only get one. Is that fair?”

Kid: “No, me need them.”

Me: “Oh? Why do you need an extra kidney?”

Kid: “Me need three to be [Kid].”

Me: “You do, now? And where did you get your extra kidney from?”

There was a good bit of babble here I wasn’t able to translate, but this is the bit I was able to get.

Kid: “At the park. The bad, bad, bad park in a box.”

Me: “You found your kidney in a box at a bad park? Well, that seems totally legit. I’m sure no one is going to be asking questions about that.”

Later, when his mom got home, I couldn’t help but share that little tidbit.

Me: “And speaking of parks, did you know that your son told me he found a kidney in a box at a ‘bad, bad, bad’ park?”

Friend: “You know what? I’m not going to ask about that.”

Me: “Good idea — less to explain to the cops that way.”

Our two-year-old toddler went through a phase where he would get jealous of the dog. He couldn’t speak much yet, but he understood most words.

One afternoon, I was sitting with our son while he ate a snack at a toddler table in the living room. My husband returned from walking the dog.

Husband: “Do you want a treat, [Dog]?”

He gave a dental hygiene chew stick to the dog, who happily gnawed on it on the floor. Our son began to cry. I realized the problem.

Me: “Oh, [Dog] is eating a snack, just like you. Except he eats his snack on the floor.”

It kind of worked. Our son stopped crying. He then bent down to carefully put a cracker on the carpet and picked it up with his mouth. Oh, well… I did say, “…just like you.” This one’s on me.

Many years ago, a couple in my church was fostering to adopt. One afternoon, they got a call about the placement of a little girl, maybe four or five years old.

When the social worker arrived with the girl, she looked her new foster parents up and down and pointed at the wife.

Girl: “You’re Mommy.”

Then, she pointed at the husband.

Girl: “You’re Daddy.” *Pauses* “Where am I sleepin’?”

All three of them cracked up. Points for efficiency!

I work at a daycare in a large gym. We have lots of activities for the kids, but one boy in particular loves to draw, so we always give him paper and crayons.

Boy: “What should I draw today?”

Me: “How about you draw me a picture of what you want to be when you grow up?”

The boy thinks for a moment and then nods to himself and gets to it! A while later, he brings me a crayon drawing typical of a five-year-old.

Boy: “This is a picture of me eating cereal!”

Me: “You want to eat cereal when you grow up? Don’t you eat cereal now?”

Boy: “No, this is me eating cereal for dinner! When I’m grown up, I can do that!”

Me: “That’s awesome, but maybe you could draw me what you want to be when you grow up, not just what you’re eating.”

I think he understands, and he disappears with his drawing. Very quickly, he’s back:

Boy: *Presents updated drawing* “When I grow up, I will have two bowls of cereal for dinner!”

Dream big, little guy!