Sprinkling sand on your skin is an easy way to get the sand off after a beach visit…. it made an impression on Jonah:

Jonah: When I get sand, Dad put paddle on me.

Me: He puts paddle on you?

Jonah: No, puzzle.

Me: Puzzle?

Jonah: No. What do you put with change diaper?

Me: Ummm, powder? Oh! Powder! He puts powder on you to get the sand off?

Jonah: Yes!

*   *   *

We’re working on a bit of assertiveness training for Jonah so that instead of whining and yipping when he’s been maligned, he can stick up for himself. So after Benjamin said something like, “Not right now” (which is the latest version of Silly Samantha), Jonah yipped and yapped, and I said:

Me (to Jonah): Tell Benjamin, ‘Don’t talk that way to me.’

Jonah (to Benjamin): Don’t talk that way to me.

Benjamin (to Jonah): You want I talk polite-fully?

*   *   *

And if either boys asks you, “What’s your number?” he wants either your age or your weight – your choice. Although Benjamin claims his number is thirty-five, which is neither.

*   *   *

Jonah (runs over to me out of nowhere): Mama! Mama!

Me: Yes, Jonah?

Jonah: 45!

Me: 45?

Jonah: Yes, 45! (and runs away)

A few minutes later….

Jonah (runs over to me again): 45 10!

Me: 45 10?

Jonah: Yes! (and dashes off)

*   *   *

If the sun has gone down and you’ve been outside, Benjamin will ask “It was making dark on you?”

*   *   *

A playground conversation that made sense only to it’s participants:

A three year-old boy (I happened to already know his name was Victor_ says to Jonah:   Hi!

Jonah:   Hi.

Boy:   What’s your name?

Jonah:   I’m Jonah. I’m Jonah.  [pause]   What’s Benjamin’s name?

Boy:   Victor.

*   *   *

And for Act II of Chauvinist Piglet, we have Benjamin working on a puzzle with me: “It’s too difficult for you. It’s not for womans.”

The boys and I were getting out of the car at church and a man asks me where the office was and was really annoyed at my response, for some reason.

“You’re welcome,” I muttered under my breath.

Benjamin looks at me and asked, “You said ‘you’re welcome?’ He was a little wude? You said ‘wet paint?’”

The boys’ brains have matured enough that they can now have 100% verbal arguments – about nothing.  For example, both boys are in their respective car seats and it begins:

Benjamin:    Taxi cab!

Jonah:   No taxicab!

Benjamin:    Yes taxi cab!

Jonah:   No taxicab!

Benjamin:    TAXI CAB!  TAXI CAB!

Jonah:   NO!  NO TAXI CAB!  NO!

.... quickly disintegrating into simultaneous exclamations of mental anguish and general malaise.

In case I haven’t made it crystal clear how much Benjamin adores the sound of his own voice, let me recap our conversation at Subway while the boys and I were eating lunch:

Benjamin:  There’s a car.

Benjamin:  It’s not going backwards, no.

Benjamin:  Mama, it’s not going backwards.

Benjamin:  Mama, I’m saying ‘It’s not going backwards.’

Me:  It’s going forwards.

Benjamin:  Yes, it’s going forwards. That’s right.

Benjamin:  More banana pepper.

Benjamin:  That’s a police car.

Benjamin:  That’s a woman. Mama, he’s a woman.

Benjamin:  He’s green.

Me:  She’s wearing a green shirt, yes.

Benjamin:  A green shirt.

Benjamin:  There’s another car. It’s beige.

Jonah:  It’s not a car. It’s a pick up.

Benjamin:  It’s not moving.

Benjamin (pointing to a nearby office building):  That’s Dad’s office?

Me:  No, he works in a different building.

Benjamin:  Dad’s office is in a different building, Jonah.

Benjamin:  That truck is going backwards.

Benjamin:  It’s not going forwards.

Benjamin:  It’s a delivery truck.

Benjamin:  I can have your banana pepper, Jonah?

Jonah:  No, mine banana pepper.

Benjamin:  This chicken is for me, yeah?

Benjamin:  Mama, talk to me.