Conversations, Food

Did we think the sh*t would stop at 7?

I think he’s ramping up. Fast track to 25, trapped in a 4-foot body with a big mouth. Whoops did I say that out loud? I know I know he gets the mouth from me. But am I really that … sarcastic? Me? I mean really, come ON! Oh yeah I’m totally sarcastic…pfffttt…not.

me: Do you want waffles and whipped cream again?

Jack: Until we run out that’s what I want every day!

me: Well it’s your birthday week so we can manage that. (I put two on his plate and pile em high with whipped cream)

Jack: (just looks at me)

me: What? Eat.

Jack: (holds up a waffle and clears his throat)

me: You’re not getting another candle if that’s what you’re hinting at.

Jack: And exactly HOW am I supposed to eat these?

me: With your mouth??

Jack: Mom equals get equals me equals fork.

me: Oh nice. How about asking the right way.

Jack: Did you understand me or not?

me: (warning look)

Jack: Puhleeaasssseeeee.

me: I just want you to speak politely to me.

Jack: Talking politely. Yeah. That’s not one of my strong points.

 

8 thoughts on “Did we think the sh*t would stop at 7?”

  1. I don’t know… I might have pulled the ole’ spoiled whip cream joke. You know — ask him to smell it to see if it’s bad, then smoosh it in his face and grin wildly πŸ™‚ Then he can have his fork, hehe

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