Casey explains it all

A week ago:

Erika, Casey, and I are sitting in the kitchen where Casey's explaining to us why he's been giving us trouble at bedtime lately. It's apparently because we're putting him to bed at times when he doesn't feel tired.

So why, I ask, do you also keep telling us at the same time that you're too tired to walk up the stairs on your own or to put on your pajamas or to brush your teeth?

Casey clearly realizes he's wandered into a logical trap, but he's not going down without a fight. But he also has no guile. So he tilts his head thoughtfully, screws up his face in concentration, and says, "Well ..."

I wait patiently, because I can already tell that whatever he says next is going on the web site.

Casey resumes a level head angle and begins, slowly and with hand gestures, "Here's the thing ..."

I really wish I knew what he said next, but after the thoughtful pause and the serious tone and the ridiculously precocious intro, I had to spend all my remaining mental energy trying to keep a straight face.

Tonight:

Casey and Darby are playing upstairs, but they're both sounding increasingly upset. Erika intervenes, and I can hear it from downstairs. Casey was playing with something, and Darby knocked it over. Erika calmed everyone down, but then I arrived just in time to see Casey knock it over.

"Casey!" Erika exclaimed. "Why did you do that? Just a minute ago you didn't want Darby knocking it over!"

Casey: "Well, once the frogs teleported ..."

Another occasion in which whatever he said that followed was eclipsed by his intro because Erika and I were incapacitated as soon as we made eye contact.

I mean, what can you say to that? Any explanation that includes teleporting frogs ... all you can do is shrug and let it go, right?

Budding vigilantes

Casey: My superhero name is Doctor Pajama!

(Darby quickly dubbed himself "Doctor Clothes," as he hadn't switched to pajamas for the evening yet.)

In which Mom's new pants arrive

Erika ordered some jeans online (ordinary denim jeans, that part's important), and one day last week they turned up in the mailbox.

Darby: Mommy, I'm so proud of you! You got new pants!
Mom: You're proud of me? Uh, thank you, Darby.
Darby: They're so furry!
Dad: Darby, are you stoned right now?*

*Note: I only thought, and did not actually speak, that last line out loud.

Erika reminded me of this conversation when I observed that I spend most of my time around here correcting Darby. Erika pointed out that Darby just likes to talk and doesn't much care what he says or what the context is. He just remembers that he's heard this combination of words before, and he's going to speak them now. And I'm excitedly posting that here, because as soon as she said it, I realized: YES. THAT'S IT EXACTLY.

Darby tries ginger ale:

Darby: Blech! This is yucky!
Chris: Do you want some more?
Darby: ... Yes.

And reported by his mom:

Erika: Good painting, Darby. What is it?
Darby: It's a guy throwing up!
Erika: Yep, that's what that looks like.

I'm sitting at the kitchen table when Darby comes running up.

"Daddy, Daddy! Mommy did something bad!"

Immediately I hear Erika from somewhere in the distance: "WHAT?!"

Sadly, Darby's explanation was incomprehensible, so I never could figure out what he thought she'd done. But I'm sure it was terrible.

Justice at 4

Hey neat, I just found an old file on my computer. I know, right? But it gets better! Apparently I knew I'd want to remember this, so I jotted this exchange down. It's more than a year old, but here's my attempt to explain jurisprudence to an inquisitive 4-year-old:

Casey: What do the police do?
Chris: They're there to enforce the law. We have lots of special rules that keep people safe and keep them from hurting each other, and the police are there to make sure people aren't breaking the rules.
Casey: The police make sure people are sharing?

And:

Casey: What do the bad guys do?
Chris: The bad guys break the rules.
Casey: Do bad guys like to climb on the table?

Quote[s] of the [Holi]day

Ah, a day at home with the kids. So here's one from each:

Casey: Hey, Daddy? Remember last year, when the Twins lost too many games?
Me: Well, I try not to, but yes.
Casey: Maybe that will happen to the other hockey team that's playing the Wild.

Thanks, Casey. I love when he tries to cheer me up. And actually ... the Wild are looking surprisingly good so far.

And:

Darby: I want pie sauce, too!
Erika: It's not called pie sauce, Darby, it's whipped cream.

Happy Thanksgiving, all.

Here's one I saved from a month ago:

[Darby is wailing, profoundly upset.]
Chris: Darby, what is it? Why are you crying?
Darby: *chokes back the sobs* Casey called me a cabbage!

???

Well that didn't take long. I came home on time today:

Casey: I'm eating something!
Hmm. He's not supposed to have food downstairs, and he hasn't been upstairs since I got home.
Chris: What are you eating?
Casey: I saved a fruit snack in my cheek!

Darby: I want another show!
Erika: Sorry, Darby, it's time for bed.
Darby: But I'm hungry!
Erika: It's time for bed, Darby. Let's go upstairs.
Darby: To get a snack?

Nice try, Darby. Nice try.

Quote of the Day

Darby: I'm getting big with candy corn!

Quote of the Day

Darby: I'm an outer space spacestronaut! We're going to the moooooon!

Happy birthday, Darby.

Someday, we'll need this post so Darby knows where his college money went

Darby: Mommy, I'm hungry.

Erika: No, you're not.

Darby: But I am hungry!

Erika: Darby, you just had two dinners.

Darby: But I want ... I want ... I want two more dinners!

A short play about dinner

Chris: Which do you like more? Carrots or potatoes? Which one's better?

Darby: No! Carrots can't turn into potatoes!

[We regard each other silently.]

Chris: What! We've got here, is. Failure! To ... commun'cate!

Darby: [Roars laughter.] "Commun'cate is not a vegetable!"

Adventures in verb tense

Darby:

When I was a hockey player, I should shoot the puck! Like WHOCK! That's how you do it, with a hockey stick.

New feature: Quote of the Day

I need to write some of this stuff down. So this is how it's gonna be, at least when I remember to do it. And when the material's interesting enough, which I guess I can't promise every day. But I've got a good feeling.

Casey:

"I don't have a runny nose! I'm just sniffing to keep the goo in."

Well done, Casey. Funny AND horribly disgusting! That's some distilled essence of parenthood right there.

Drinking to numb the pain

The kids were passed out by 8:15 tonight, but it was a hard-won victory. We've been building up to this for days while we train Darby to stay in bed willingly.  Perhaps tomorrow morning will go better than it did today.

Because today, at quarter to 6, Darby threw the door of his room open and called down the hallway, "Mommy?" My wife, who is perhaps the kindest person I know, groaned menacingly and said, "I hate everyone."  These are dark days.

Fortunately, there are bright spots to tide us over.  Like drinking.  We've been planning for the holidays and just the other night spent some time watching the kids run in circles while we shared visions of fuzzy navels on Thanksgiving.  We decided I would be in charge of visiting the liquor store.

Casey, who has radar for this sort of thing, immediately lost all interest in running, giggling, and knocking Darby over. "What's a liquor store?"  Oh boy, here we go.

"It's a store where they sell liquor."

"What's a liquor?"

"It's a drink that's just for grownups."

Casey immediately got into character.  "I'm going to go to the liquor store and pick up liquors for you!"

"Ooh, I don't think they'll sell you any, buddy.  You're too short."

"They're not for ME, Dad, I said they were for YOU."  Sometimes, I just don't get it.

"Oh, right, you said that.  Well good luck, Casey, let me know how it goes."

Thirty seconds later he returned and announced, "Daddy, I got you seven liquors!"

"Wow, seven!  Good job, pal.  I usually stop after one or two."

You make a fair point, Casey

"Darby's a good baby!" Casey said.

"Well, he's good, yes, but he's not exactly a baby anymore."

"Oh.  Well, he does cry a lot."

Our Little Cyrano

Casey is looking at a folded piece of paper that has nothing to do with Valentine's Day and composing little Valentine's Day greetings out loud:

"Dear Valentine, I love you are a rescuer. Happy Valentine's Day."

"Dear Valentine, I like you in the daytime. Happy Valentine's Day."

My boy's growing up

Last night, it happened for the first time:

"What's this song, Daddy?"

"That's called the Imperial March, it's a song from a movie."

"I want to watch the movie this is from!"

Atta boy.