Sunday Silly Stories

Good evening, dear readers. I have to admit this is only a tiny sampling of the many silly stories we've experienced this week, but my sister and brother-in-law have been here the past couple of days. Along with my job(s), housework, email communique, and sleep, my blogging has suffered. Maybe next week I'll hit y'all with an expanded version of everything Trish can remember from this weekend--or I'll pull a Wacky Wednesday post out of my hat.

I was reading a bedtime story to Quinn the other night after just discussing with Trish how we’ve gotten out of that habit (I know, I know, bad mom). He picked a book that my mom gave him that was the story of Genesis. We got to the part where God creates the day, and Quinn reaches over, closes the book, and says “Amen.” I guess that means we’re done.

I was making dinner the other night and obviously Quinn really wanted to be close to me because he wouldn’t leave the kitchen. I gave him a wooden spoon to beat on his bowl and instead he pretends to eat something out of the bowl with it. I suggested he feed George (his stuffed Curious George, thanks Aunt Linda!). So he set George in his folding Mickey Mouse chair and started to pretend to feed him with this long wooden spoon. He even made “Yum Yum” sounds. It was so cute! Once George was full, they both lay down on the kitchen floor flat on their backs. Weirdo.

We have recently started to allow Quinn access to the kitchen more and more. We’ve put locks on the fridge, oven, and lazy Susan cabinet, so that helps. I’m being very careful to keep the handles turned inward on pots and pans and warn him that the oven is hot (even when it isn’t, y’know?). The other day, he came in while I was cooking and got near the oven. I said, “Don’t touch, that’s hot.” He said, “Hot,” and then leaned over and started blowing on the oven door. Hah! We’ve always taught him to blow on his food if it’s too hot, so he was making the connection. It just cracks me up that he would try to cool down the whole oven by blowing on it.

In other kitchen escapades, I was chopping veggies for dinner one night. I didn't have any appliances on, so I wasn't paying much attention to Quinn. He started saying "hot, hot, hot." Immediately I panicked a bit, wondering what he could have gotten a hold of. I turn around to see this:

A hat. Duh.

In other news, Quinn is loving having his aunt and uncle here. He asks for "Uncles" all the time and would rather be holding Trish's hand than mine. But he won't call her Trish (even though that's who he talks to when he pretends to talk on the phone, even handing the phone with "Trish" on it to the actual Trish). He has started calling her either "me" or "mine." Hmmm. When I say, "Is that Trish?" he says, "Trish?" Then he looks at her and say, "Oh, Mine." What? Why?

Okay, time for bed. Love, Us.