These are my favorite days. The pace is markedly slower. The breakfast components 9 times out of 10 include syrup. And the conversation is much more.... interesting.
"Mom, I'm keeping my money safe in my armpit." Apparently, this is the seven-year-old's approach to a nest egg.
We learned that the middle one, who is two (going on 20), knows how to count to four. We learned this when I asked Oldest Son to please drink his milk.
Mom: "Do I have to start counting?"
Middle Son: "Bubba, One... Two... Three.... Four.... Eight...."
But my favorite exchange of the weekend, and not for the faint of heart... so if you're a sensitive it's best to skip to the end... is as follows:
Oldest: "*Toot*"
Mom: "Gavin please don't do that."
Oldest: "But Mom, if I hold it in, it will come out as a burp and you hate it when I burp at the table."
Enough said.
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