I keep having to remind my daughters that they don't get to count to three when their brothers aren't doing what they want. Nicki explained, "I don't put them in time out or anything, Mom. I just count to three before I go tattle on them." Oh. Well. Hmm.
A few weeks ago, Josh was watching television. He had to use the potty, so he yelled, "Mom! I have to go to the bathroom! Don't let anyone take my seat!" I didn't respond fast enough I guess, because he said, "Mom! Listen. I'm going to the bathroom and when I get back, I don't want to find anyone in my seat, okay?" Where does he come up with stuff like that?!? Oh yeah. Me.
Whenever we ask Bronson to do something that he doesn't want to do, he gets a pathetic, weak look in his eyes and whines, "I can't. I got baby in my tummy." Clearly, this came from David, not me...heh heh.
The best/worst was last Sunday during Sacrament meeting. Bronson climbed up on his daddy's lap and looked over his shoulder at the other members of the congregation. All of a sudden, something caught his eye. I'm not sure who or what it was because I was too embarrassed to turn around, but out of no where, Bronson pointed his finger at someone and yelled (I mean yelled), "WHAT THE...?!?!?" I had a hard time controlling the giggles from our bench, including from David and I.
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