"Mommy -- I'm texting your mom. She got real sick. She had too much salt. The doctor said, 'No more having salt!'"
"Daddy! Mommy doesn't cut it like that!"
A: "Really? How does she cut it?"
"She cuts it normal!"
"Daddy, Destany isn't sharing her love with me. She won't let me go in her room!"
"Mommy, I feel really sick....like my head's going to fall off and my brain isn't working right. Ask me what's 2 + 2?"
Mom: "I'm sorry you don't feel well. What's 2 + 2?"
"Mmmmmm....I'm not sure. But I think it's close to four."
"When I'm married, I'm going to have 10 kids. My husband won't have a job, so he'll be around to help me a lot. I'll give him Saturday, Sunday, and Tuesday off, so he can have a rest."
"Bleh! Wine is gross. I don't want to drink any more until I'm thirteen!"
(Andy: "Phew! Glad we don't have to worry about that for seven more years.")
L: "Mom, the oranges you told me to put in the compost were hard on the outside, but perfect on the inside.
Kiara: "Oh, bummer. Next time, let me know and we can juice them, okay?"
L: "Okay. But you're pretty smart, so I thought you'd know that."
"Sorry, what did you say, Mom? I couldn't hear you....I was thinking."