Today I opened my bedroom windows. I’m such a rebel.
I don’t really have much to blog about except that I cleaned my room and while I cleaned I opened up my windows, which have stickers on them that help our military housing people strictly enforce the no-unlocked-or-open-upstairs-windows-ever rule. I’m like an unmanageable teenager, yall.
I can’t think of much else that’s happened so I’ll just tell you what Sam said.
At the museum last week, Sam, my 5 year old, picked out one of those dinosaur eggs things that you put in water and it hatches and then you have a little dinosaur. He was so excited that his egg would hatch and he would finally have a pet dinosaur, which apparently is all he’s ever wanted.
He was telling me all about it and I asked him what he was going to name it. He answered, I’m naming him Brick. I asked, Brick? Not Fido, or Rover, or spot? He said, No. His name will be Brick.
Two days later I found his hatched dino sitting on the coffee table and I took it to him and we had the following conversation.
Me: Sam, you left Brick on the table. Pets are not allowed on the table.
Sam: That’s not Brick.
Me: Isn’t this your dinosaur?
Me: You told me his name is Brick.
Sam: Yeah, I did, but he’s not Brick, he’s Rubber.
Then a couple days later Sam was calling him Brick and I asked, I thought you said he was rubber now. Sam replied, as if I were missing something completely obvious, Yes, he’s rubber, but he is Brick.
P.S. Sam (5) and Jesse (3) stopped whining and became awesome the instant I said smile.
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