“This is called air guitar.” –Mrs. K was especially impressed by this. So was I, since I only taught it to 3B over breakfast, and he was apparently doing it all day.
“You’ve got poop all over your crib. You want to wash your hands.” –Mama was not so impressed by the accuracy of this statement, uttered at the conclusion of 3B’s nap yesterday. According to her, 3B went digging for gold, then went all Jackson Pollock in his crib. Good times.
“Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum” –Mama commented that my son was the only kid on the playground singing out this line, and then muttered something I couldn’t quite make out about who had taught him this song. Hey, just be grateful that he hasn’t mastered the next few lines–but don’t worry, we’ll work on it…
The mate was fixed by the bosun’s pike
The bosun brained with a marlinspike
And cookey’s throat was marked belike
It had been gripped by fingers ten;
And there they lay, all good dead men
Like break o’day in a boozing ken
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.