Cecilia, hugging me tightly: Um, big girls don't get killed by emperors!
Me: ...No, I guess they don't...
Cecilia: Because their mamas pa-tect dem!
Someone may be a little too into the life of St. Nicholas...
Me, discussing John Paul's sour cream mixed with hot sauce: It's like hot cream - do you think that's the opposite of ice cream?
John Paul: CAN WE HAVE ICE CREAM???
Me: Not tonight, but maybe for Christmas?
Cecilia, perhaps the most excited I have EVER heard her: MAYBE WE'LL GET ICE CWEAM IN OUR STOCKINGS?!?!?!
Every grown-up at the dinner table: No.
Nothing says "Merry Christmas" like a soggy stocking, that's what I always say.
My sister mentioned something about a guy we know named "Michael Brown."
John Paul: What's a "micro brown?"
Me: Um... A very small brown thing?
John Paul: And what's a... micro... orange?
Me: ...A very small orange?
John Paul, raising his hands in the air, extremely proud of me: YOU DID IT! YOU GOT IT!
John Paul, still ecstatic: YOU GET A GOLD STAR!!!
Gotta love a little validation, you know?
Cecilia, eyeing her pizza crust: Oh baby... I'm going to eat you. 'Cause you're a dead baby. And I turned you into bwead.
Normal. Totally normal.
John Paul, climbing into a laundry basket: I'm Baby Jesus!
Cecilia, clad in underwear with her "Mary Veil" covering her tummy: Do you want a bwanket, Baby Jesus?
*covers him with a quilt, the pulls aside her veil to expose her stomach*
Cecilia: And do you want to tickle my tummy, Baby Jesus???
John Paul: No.
Bet you forgot about that part of the Christmas story!
John Paul, to a nursing Mary Claire: I have to tell you a baby secret. *whispering* If you push me, you'll get in trouble and get farted on!
Time to add your own link! Although I have a feeling this week will be even lighter than others... Anything goes - show us your funny!