The other night, the kids and I were snuggled in my bed watching American Idol. We were kind of chatting back and forth, discussing the finer points of some of the contestants. Then we had this conversation:
"Mom, does your bed have metal springs," Chloe said.
"Yes," I said.
"Do they push on you all night long?"
"Yes."
"Then you should get a Temperpedic. They don't have metal springs."
I sat there dumbfounded for a couple seconds before laughing hysterically. She then asked if grandma's mattress has metal springs. I told her that she should call her.
I don't know where this kid gets it. I swear she doesn't watch that much TV. I mean, it is usually on, but she's never really paying attention.
So now for Calle's story. She is apparently fascinated by doodles now. For those who don't know, that is what we have started calling a certain piece of the male anatomy (because Chloe used to shout as we were going through Walmart "She's a girl, she has a vagina, He's a boy, he has a penis." Not particularly wanting to relive those memories). The name came from Cammi's little boy. Anyway, now Calle tells my mom about the baby she got for Christmas that has a doodle because he (ok... she says she) is a boy. Grandpa is a boy so she has a doodle. She then told my mom that daddy is a boy but he doesn't have a doodle. He has a gina. If she only knew...
I love my kids. I get on here and spill the beans about the crazy things they say and do, but I love them. They are the best entertainment in the world. I don't go a day without laughing.
