On big questions: “What’s the big idea?”
On answers, given within inches of your face: “Are you the big idea?”
On story confusion: “Daddy read me ’10 Little Fingers and 10 Little Toes’ and I was, like, ‘what?'”
On facts of life: “Big boys and little boys are all the same.”
On unfortunate insights at the breakfast table: “You smell like burger.”
On the rules: “No one else can talk. I’m the only one who can talk.”
On the natural order: “I get to be the person and you get to be the horse!”
On a man’s place: “Daddy, you stay here and make dinner.”
On the prerequisites for reading about chipmunks: “Put your chipmunk eyes on, Momma.”
On why we stop Henry from clawing the carpet, misunderstanding of: “I stopped Henry from bowing.”
On the best position for an aching back: “Put one leg up and two legs down, Mama.”
If “Put Your Chipmunk Eyes On, Momma” isn’t a Beck song, then, well, it should be.
I can hear the beat now…