If you were in our house at any given moment, on any given day, you may, or may not, hear some of the following remarks. And you may, or may not, understand them. I'm not sure I do.
Svea: Him's sad. Him needs his Mommy and Daddy. And he needs hims snack.
(Her solution to everything, really.)
Henry: Ah! My bum cracked!
(This one is recurring, I know. But I can't leave it out. He usually says it when his undies go up his crack)
Svea: Don't! [screaming]
Mommy: I won't. [not screaming]
(This could be about anything or nothing. I have no idea. It happens all the time.)
Henry: When you get smaller than me, then you can do this too.
(There's lots of confusion lately about growing bigger, then smaller again.)
Me to I, Husband: Have you seen HBD?
I, Husband: We lost her again?
(Happy Birthday Dora is a staple in our house. She is made of plastic and is an inch and a half tall. Svea must have her, and we keep losing her. Especially when we "put her down for a nap.")
Henry: Mommy, it's the BEES that turn cheese into honey.
Svea: Oh, Mommy. I hug you. You're still a girl.
Thank you, Bobbie, for these great photos