Nonsensicles

On whether the animal she’s thinking of swims: “A lion.”

On dressing: “Pants and undies? I’m not sure about that.”

On why I shouldn’t make noise when she’s trying to sleep: “If you keep doing this, I’m going to have to turn myself into a fish. And what am I supposed to do about that?”

On why she won’t sleep, with blinking to demonstrate: “I can’t close my eyes for that long.”

On my driving: “I’m going to have to talk to Mom about this. You weren’t watching the rails, Dad.”

On my growling and munching at her: “You can’t eat persons! Eat Limbo instead!”

On consoling her doll: “Heidi, please don’t be emotional.”

On Gabe through a magnifying glass: “He looks big and burly.”

On things that are funny across generations: “I’m wearing the sunglasses in the night!”

On things to say, bossy and incoherent: “You talk more speechless than I am.”

On soothing a crying baby in the car: “Now don’t you worry. Don’t you be even nervous.”

Bonus Quotable: On “Beauty and the Beast” as retold to her brother through stickers: “She was the enchantress who turned the beast back into love.”

On the prospect of impending Christmas: “Yummy in my hair! Yummy in my eyeballs!”

On the glass of water she’s holding: “Dad, is this from tomorrow?”

On Gabe finishing breast feeding: “Stop that and get back on the arm pit!”

On her chocolate advent calendar: “You know what I need? One of those things right over there.”

On why she doesn’t want Santa to come to her house: “Because I think that’s enough toys for me.”

On urgent and unusual – even in context – bedtime requests: “Stand on books, Daddy! Please!”

On good bathroom chants: “No one come and poop with meeee. No one come and poop with meeee.”

On her body: “I’m a pancake that’s really, really long.”

On our family status: “Mom? Do we have a baby still?”

On units of measurement: “Miles and miles of years ago: tar pits!”

On labor and delivery optimism: “Maybe I’ll catch baby brother!”

On Gabe’s so-called birthday: “Why didn’t we have cake?”

On what to say to the little girl at swim class: “You can look at me, if you want.”

On where she is: “I’m in your epiglottis! Running down your throat!”

On encouraging the dog to keep walking: “Come on, Maggie, you old thing.”

On what she would like for a present: “I don’t like bad things. I only like good things. I only like butterflies and other things that are good.”

On what Grandma Pat can get us from the store: “I thought of something. Can you get me a fairy?”

On what we’re going to do: “We’re going to do a somersault. You know, a somersault? Yee-haw!”

On the PGA event on television: “Where’s Grandpa Mike, though?”

On what her brother’s name is, five days after he was born: “I don’t know.”

On what she wants to write on her Thanksgiving stickers in the space for what she’s thankful for: “These stickers.”

On things to say at 4 am, just as Dad is convinced you’ve fallen back to sleep: “Daddy, do you like ladybugs?”

On what to say to me and Momma: “Okay, give me all your things, ladies.”

On things to get giddy about when dressing yourself: “Tag in the back! Look!”

On things to say to your breakfast, complimentary: “You’re a hot little waffle.”

On the contents of the toilet: “I like this soup you made.”

On the stars, the general inaccessibility of: “But there’s no way to get off this planet.”

On battle cries: “Eat your pants!”

On hide-and-seek strategy: “Don’t look in the bed, okay?”

On why she needs to get her water cup out of the yard: “Before it’s dark and the coyotes come and snatch it from the hills.”