Me: Mollie, what would you like for breakfast?
Amalia: Um ... (thinks for a second)
Me: Would you like some peanut butter toast?
Amalia: What? What did you say?
Me: (enunciating) I asked if you'd like some peanut butter toast.
Amalia: (matter-of-factly) Oh, I thought you said, "Asparagus."
Baylor: (in his extra sweet voice) Mommy, I want to be like you.
Me: Aww, buddy! Really?!
Baylor: Yeah, will you help me? Will you help me be a better kid ... at ... FRACTIONS.
Me: (smiling) Sure.
(Little does he know, fractions aren't my strong suit.)
(In the morning, Mollie had on a short-sleeved dress, so while she and I were talking I helped her put on a sweatshirt over top of that. Usually she doesn't like to put sweatshirts or sweaters over clothes she is excited to wear, but she didn't balk so I plowed ahead. We went through the entire day with her snug and warm in the sweatshirt over her dress. As she was getting undressed, though ...)
Amalia: (in hysterics) Who did this?! Who did this to me?! Who put this on me?!?!
Bryson: (completely confused at the sudden mood shift) What? What is going on, sweetie?
Amalia: (even more upset) WHO DID THIS TO ME?! WHO PUT THIS ON ME?!
Me: (hearing the commotion and sprinting up the stairs) What's wrong?!
Bryson: I have no idea.
Amalia: (sobbing and tugging at the sweatshirt) WHO PUT THIS ON ME?!?!
Me: (chuckling and smiling) Oh, sweetie, it was me. I put it on you ... this morning. Don't you remember? (She shook her head as I took it off her.)
Bryson: (under his breath to me) Are you serious?
Me: (under my breath to him) I didn't think she had noticed. I guess I was right.