Talkin' About Cute Beavers, Dead Birds, And Imaginary Musical Chipmunks.

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Chatting with Bea about  previous day's trip to zoo:

Bea:  "I like the beavers."

Me:  "Yes, they were very cute."

Bea:  "Boys like beavers."

Me: *tee hee* "Yes they do."

Bea:  "Boys like to pet beavers"

Me:  *tee hee hee* "Yup, they sure do."

Bea: "Girls like beavers too."

Me:  "Some girls love beavers."

Bea:  "Mommy?  Why are you laughing?"

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Me getting ready to wash kitchen floor and calling for damn dog to come in:

Put one rug outside and call for dog;

"Olive!!"

Put second rug outside;

"OLIVE!!!"

Put trash can outside;

"OLIVE!! GET. IN. HERE!!!  Oh, there you are you rotten fucking -  BLAHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

My screams echoing off the trees.

Followed by my screaming laughter echoing off the trees.

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Preparing dead bird which Olive had dropped at my feet for burial in empty swiffer cloth container:

Bea: "Why is it not saying chirp?"

Owen: "It dead. Dead not chirp."

Bea:  "Why it be dead?  Olive make it be dead?  Why it not flying up to the sky?"

Owen: "Dead not fly either Sweetie."

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In car, windows open, CD playing loudly, some dumb prick tries to me cut off.

Me: *whispering* "What the fuck is he doing?"

Bea (in squeaky Muppet who just sucked down helium balloon voice):  "What the fuck is he doing Mommy?"

I whispered it. Pinky swear.

And I didn't laugh.

Pinky swear.

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In car, my boyfriend's CD playing:

Bea:  "I wrote this song."

Me:  "You did, did you?"

Bea:  "Yup! Me and my friend Chipmunk, his name Chipmonkey, we wrote it together when I was a big kid, on my pink computer."

Me:  "Does Chipmonkey wear a fedora?"

Bea:  "Huh?"
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After kids devour meal that I'd painstakingly prepared:

Owen: *signs* "Thank You."

Me:  "You're welcome Sweetie.  Bea?  Do you have something to say to Mommy?"

Bea:  *Pfffffffft*

Me:  "Really?"

Bea:  "Owen signed Thank You.  I farted Thank You."

I shit you not people.

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