You wouldn’t believe the number of dreams I have of my cats escaping repeatedly as I find them in more and more absurd environments. I don’t think the Proterozoic era even had cats.

Things my little boy says:

Him: “Cake!”
Me: “Yes, you have your birthday cake.”
*pause*
Him: “Mummy eat cake?”
*debates giving mummy cake*
Him: “Sorry, mummy.”
*mummy gets no cake*

Things my little boy says:

Him: ‘Mummy, cold hands.’
Me: ‘Would you like me to put your gloves on?’
Him: ‘Yesh.’

Things my little boy says:

Me: ‘Yoghurt?’
Him: ‘Garlic Yogurt!’
Me: ???
*dips his garlic bread in yogurt*

Things my little boy says:

Me: ‘Where’s the Moon?’
*long pause*
Him: ‘There it is! Moon hiding!’
*howls at moon*

Things my little boy says:

‘One, twooo, FOUR… six! Oh - THREE!’

Things my little boy says:

Me: ‘Is your porridge good?’
Him: ‘Superb! Mummy!’ *chef’s kiss*

Things my little boy says:

Him: ‘Sit there, mummy, sit there!’ *expressive pointing*

Things my little boy says:

Me: ‘Have you lost your socks again?’
Him: ‘Prob-leeee’.