My kids are highly quotable.  You probably want proof, so I’ll cut to the chase.  Here are some of the most amazing things they have said:

·       “Have it?  Ice keem?  In air?”

My two year-old asks a lot of questions.  In this case, he made one question into three separate ones.  He was asking if he could have ice cream.

He usually knows if we have ice cream in the freezer.  He points to the freezer and asks if he can have some of the “ice keem”—specifically, the “ice keem” that’s “in air.”

“Have it?”

·       “Thank you.” 

My two year-old has learned to say “thank you,” which is good.  The only thing is, he uses the phrase in a unique way.  He says “thank you” to acknowledge that he understands something. 

For example, I was talking to him today about how he always has a hard time sitting still in the dentist’s chair.  He is going to see the dentist tomorrow.  I told him, “You have to sit still for the dentist.  She’s going to look at your teeth.  No crying at the dentist, Andre.”  

He responded with a happy and cooperative-sounding, “Thank you.”  

Another example: today, he threw a marker and broke a water glass that was on the table.  I said, “Andre, look what you did!  Do not throw things!”  

He said, “Thank you.”

He uses “thank you” in an unusual way, but I’m not worried.  If he wants to say “thank you,” I have no complaints. 

 

·       “Uh-Eee”

When my five year-old was two, he used to say, “Uh-Eee” instead of “Uh-Oh.”  He would say “Uh-Eee” after making a mess.  It was very cute and it probably helped him get in less trouble with Mom and Dad as a result.  Smart kid!

  

·       “Mommy do it.”

I hear this a lot from both of my boys.  Either “Mommy do it” or “I want Mommy.”  

They usually say it when I’m trying to read them a story, tuck them into bed, help them get dressed, help them brush their teeth, help them buckle their seat belts, … if Mommy is in the vicinity, they usually choose her over me.

As Stuart Smalley used to say: “And that’s, okay.”

·       “Am do it.”

The culture warriors are going to go berserk over this one. Why?  Because my two year-old has invented a new gender-neutral pronoun.

The pronoun is “am.”  He’s never used the pronoun “I” as the subject of a sentence.  He has latched onto “am” as his preferred first-person pronoun.  

“Am have it.”  “Am go there.”  “Am play.”

Live with it, people.

 

·       “Showie”

“Shower” has only recently become part of my five year-old son’s vocabulary. The word used to be “showie.”  (It rhymes with the name Howie.)  

Sometimes my sons take a “showie” because it’s quicker than filling up the bathtub.  Matthias remembers that he used to say “showie” (probably because we always tease him about it) and now he has taught his little brother to say “showie” as well.  The tradition lives on.  

 

·       “Samuel boke it.”  

Back when Matthias was two, he mysteriously repeated this sentence over and over.  It meant, “Samuel broke it.”  

I knew who Samuel was.  He was a boy who had come to our house for a playdate.  I did not know what he had broken, though.  I was sure that Samuel had not broken any of our toys.  He was very well behaved the whole time.  

Yet, Matthias kept saying, “Samuel boke it,” in the days and weeks following the playdate.  “Samuel boke it.”  “Samuel boke it.”  

One day, we finally solved the mystery.  My wife was sitting at the table, peeling an orange.  Matthias watched her and said, “Mommy boke it a oinge.”  

My ears perked up.  I said, “Yes, Mommy broke the orange.  Did Samuel break an orange?”  

He said, “Yes.”  

And now we finally knew what Samuel had “broken.”  Sure enough, at the playdate, Samuel had spent a solid fifteen minutes peeling an orange and eating it all by himself.  

I guess that feat was quite impressive to Matthias, who at that time didn’t have the skill or patience to peel his own orange.  He was much more likely to say, “Mommy do it.” 

Anyway, the “Samuel boke it” mystery has been solved. 

 

·       “‘Nar one?”

My two year-old likes to ask, “‘Nar one?”  

He tends to ask for “‘nar M” (another M&M), “‘nar waychay” (another cup of milk a.k.a. “leche”), and “‘nar one wace car” (another Matchbox car to have in his bed at night, bringing the total up to a baker’s dozen.  Sounds comfortable, doesn’t it?)

  

·       “Ni ni”

The two year-old used to say “Ni ni” instead of “night night.”  He’s outgrown it now, but I enjoyed “Ni ni” because it reminded me of Monty Python and the Knights Who Say “Ni.” 

 

·       “Bana”

No, not Eric Bana, who once played the “Incredible Hulk.”  

I mean “bana,” as in the delicious fruit that comes in a yellow peel. Andre used to ask for a “bana” every night before bed as a way of slowing down the bedtime process.  We used to give in to him, but recently we’ve put our foot down.  It’s a pain to have to re-brush his teeth.

 

·       “Everybody can’t see me.”

This is the famous quote from when Matthias was potty training.  He was two.  (As you can tell, a lot of the best quotes come when the kids are two.)

Often, we would be playing in a park, nowhere near a bathroom.  I didn’t want him to wet his diaper, so we would find an out-of-the-way spot and have him go in the bushes.  To help him get started, I would always assure him that no one was looking.

One day, Matthias beat me to the punch.  Standing in the bushes, as I was helping him get ready to go, he announced, “Everybody can’t see me.”  

It was a memorable turn-of-phrase and we still like to repeat it whenever one of the boys is peeing outdoors.

 

·       “Food snack”

My sons love gummies.  Any kind of gummy.  Interestingly, some gummies come with a euphemistic label that says, “fruit snacks.”  

When Matthias was younger, he didn’t fall for the euphemism.  We would tell him that he was eating “fruit snacks,” but he chose to call them “food snacks,” instead.  

He allowed that they’re food.  They’re edible, certainly.  But “fruit?” 

C’mon.  He knew they didn’t contain any fruit.  “Food snacks” is more accurate.  But he loves them, regardless.

 

·       “Fimmin’ suit, on?”

I began with a question that my two year-old asks.  I’ll give you ‘nar one now.  

Some days, Andre goes and finds his fimmin’ suit.  He brings it to me and says, “Fimmin’ suit, on?”  That means we’ve haven’t been to the fimmin’ pool in a couple of days and he is ready to go again.

How can I say no to that?  

You might be wondering what’s the point of all these great quotes from my kids?  Am I trying to prove that my kids are the most quotable?”

Not at all.  In fact, other people’s kids are highly quotable, as well.  

Here’s an example: just last week, I was at my son’s Pre-K orientation. Parents were allowed to come into the classroom and see how everything works.  

At one point, we went across the hall to the music room.  The kids all sat in a circle on the floor with their music teacher.  She led them in the first verse of “The Wheels on the Bus.”  All the parents stood off to the side to observe.

After the first verse, the teacher stopped the singing and asked, “What else does a bus do?”  

A little girl raised her hand and said, “It crashes.”  

I burst out laughing.  So did a few other parents, but I laughed the loudest.  

The little girl immediately turned and glared right at me.  I haven’t been glared at like that for a long time.  She was not happy.  

And she was right.  I was supposed to be silently observing.  By laughing out loud, I was intruding on the class.

The teacher quickly moved on with the singing, and the mini-lesson wrapped up a few minutes later.  As we all made our way back across the hall, I told the little girl that I liked her answer.  I think everything was okay between us after that.  

The point is, other people’s kids are highly quotable, and not just mine. 

  

Next, you’re going to ask, “What about the parents?  Don’t they get any of the glory?” 

Sure, they do.  In the case of my wife and I, a lot of the humor is along the lines of unnecessary censorship, like the clips they put together on Jimmy Kimmel.  

At our house, we try not to use bad language around the kids.  One time when my wife was in grad school, she was talking about a situation at work. She said, “The s is gonna hit the f.”  It was good to censor the s-word but it was completely unnecessary to censor the word “fan.”  

Once, when we were out on a family walk, we came to a four-way stop where a guy in a car couldn’t figure out if he was going ahead or letting us cross first. I said under my breath, “S or get off the p.”  The p-word being “pot.”  Again, unnecessary censorship (at least with one of the words).   

My wife, instead of saying “diaper bag,” once called it the “d-bag.”  She and I started laughing, and then, of course, my five year-old had to ask, “What’s a d-bag?” 

That was more like reverse-censorship.  She accidentally turned a benign word into a semi-bad word.  

The lesson to take away from this post is that we are all quotable!

But, generally, two year-olds are the most quotable.

Postscript: Hold up, hold up, hold up. Hold it right there. I know you’ve got a head full of steam and you’re going off to the comments section right now to let me know that my kid isn’t actually that smart. You’re going to tell me that he wasn’t making a scientific observation about fruit snacks containing no actual fruit. You don’t think he called them “food snacks” because he’s a genius. He simply called them “food snacks” because he couldn’t pronounce the word “fruit” correctly. Guess what? Maybe you’re right. But can’t I take a little bit of poetic license in my own blog?