After a rough week of potty training (more on that later)and being locked up in the house all week, Char and Asher went to pick up dinner. And this is the conversation that these two had on the way:
C: Hey, buddy, do you know where we're going?
A: Yeah. Chick-fil-a. {grumpily}
C: Aren't you so excited to eat Chick-fil-a?
A: No. I don't want to eat Chick-fil-a.
C: WHAT?! It's your favorite...what if tonight you just eat poop? (see where the conversation goes when I'm not around?)
A: WHAT!?!?!
C: Or what if you just eat worms?
A: Yeah. I want to eat worms.
The rest of the car ride home, he talked about how he wanted to eat worms. As soon as he bounded through the door, he announced that he was eating worms instead of chicken tonight.
Char went out to dig up a worm from our compost pile as I pleaded with Asher about how disgusting it would be and how it would make him gag and throw up.*
My protesting did not phase him. If anything it only fueled the insanity.
And...so like any good mother would, I pulled out the Flip so that I could record the silly escapade as he chickened out:
I will no longer be accepting compliments from Asher when he tells me, "You're a really good cook, Momma."
(Now, go back to 14 seconds into the video and look at how disappointed Asher's face is when Charlie didn't put the worm directly into his mouth.)
*Charlie has convinced me that he cannot get a tapeworm from eating an earthworm. Only time will tell.
If you've had a week like us (it's potty training week in the Apel home) then you're definitely due for a little humor:
Charlie was grilling in the backyard.
M: Asher, will you take this plate to Daddy? Ask him if this will work for the chicken or if he needs the cutting board.
Asher opens the back door and holds out the plate.
A: Daddy, will this work for the chicken? Or do you need a diving board? Oh,I mean...do you need a diving board for the chicken? Oh. Whoops. Here we go again. Will this plate work or do you need a cutting board?
I love that precious boy. I don't want him to ever stop mixing up words....little cutie.
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Asher was typing a bunch of keys on my cellphone:
M: Don't you be calling anyone, Mister.
A: I'm not. I'm just texting.
M: You're what?
A: Just texting.
M: Who are you texting?
A: I just texted Daddy.
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I was carrying McKlayne out of church on Sunday morning and felt her diaper. (Charlie had gotten her dressed that morning and it was a new dress.)
