When I pick up my big guy he's standing oh-so-casually right by an old Corvette. I begged him to let me take a picture of him beside it and he steadfastly refused. "You should buy me a Corvette, mom." Uh, yeah, right. Every day when I drive him home we get to one spot where I have to have him recline his seat or lean WAY over so short little me can see clearly. Almost every time he gripes about it.
"Hey, it's because you're a big kid with a big head, dude." I grumble only half-way meaning for him to hear me.
"Both of those things are your fault, mom." Oh, guess I don't have a snappy comeback for that one. He's got some variety of accuracy on his side, after all. (I love that kid!)
He did lean over, though, so I suppose I got my way in the end and still managed to show him who's boss.
We got home and I went in to get more love from little guy, since he was being so generous and all.
"I love you, I love you, I love you, too!" I say as I enter his room.
"I was saying 'alligator food' not 'I love you.'" I turn, leave the room, and go to a mirror in my bedroom. I mouth "alligator food" and, dagnabbit, it does look just like "I love you." Fricka-fracka! Little guy wanders in and finds me testing the similarity of the two phrases.
"You should try mouthing 'vacuum'" I did...done...check...note to self, don't ever mouth the word "vacuum" around my boss or my students' parents...things could go terribly wrong.