"What is a Quiche? Sounds digusting...I'd rather eat a turd"=Sam

"Enough with the kissing already. When you kiss me, I want to barf."-Sam

A picture is worth a thousand messes

This was Sam's reply, or "non reply" to me asking him why he destroyed the living room, and emptied all the boxes I just packed.

Perfect.

No..... appropriate.... response...

Me: Sam, we are meeting with a very important person this week, do you remember?

Sam: Who?

Me: She is the head of a very important school that I am trying to get you into, but you need to show her how smart you are because it costs a lot of money to go there.

Sam: How much money?

Me: A lot of dollars, more than a comedy writer makes...that is all I know. So, we need to impress her with stuff that you can do.

Sam: I will tell her lots of things to impress her, want to know what I will tell her?

Me: sure, what?

Sam: I will tell her that sometimes when I first waked up, my wiener turns into a statue.

Me: (in my head) I literally have no idea what to say in response to that.
Me: (out of my head) Maybe we shouldn't tell her about your penis honey, let's show her that you can write your name.

Sam: Sometimes it turns into a statue when I have to pee too, I bet she would like my wiener story better.

Me: I'm sure she would.

Mom, want to know what I do when I'm bored?

Today was a doozey. During the winter months having a young boy is a lot like keeping a silverback gorilla in your house. I know when I tell people he makes messes, they literally have no comprehension of what I really mean. it's not their fault, I myself didn't know until I had a child that they have a special ability to make a mess out of anything. It's always at the worse time too, what's that? My car needs a new engine? Awesome, because Sam just emptied a bottle of ketchup into my underwear drawer. So, what I'm trying to say is, today was a hard one. The parade of stressful occurances ended with Sam showing me something he does when he is bored...wanna hear about it? Well here you go...

Me: Ugh, baby..You need to lay off Mommy for a while okay?

Sam: Want to know what I do when Im bored?

Me: sure.

(Sam takes me by the hand over to the kitty litter box and proceeds to scrape up about 3 or 4 cat turds. )

Me: Sam, honey get out of the litter box, what are you doing.

(I am so tired and worn out at this point, I barely even whined this to him, and was defeinltey too beat down to even try to stop him.)

Sam: Okay, the first thing you do is get the cat turds, then you open the basement door. Make sure the light is on okay mom?

Me: I dont like where this is going.

Sam: when the door is open and you have the turds, you do this.

(My Son then proceeded to take his shovel full of cat shit, and whip it down the basement stairs at about 60 miles per hour, splattering it against the back wall.)

Sam: See, that's what I do when I'm bored.

I am not kidding when I say, that instead of yelling, I just went into the refrigerator, got a Guiness and laid on the couch. Sometimes, they just win..and today I was glad to throw in the towel. A cold Guiness tastes a whole lot better than yelling at your son and cleaning up cat turds.

Milestone?

For probably 6 months, Sam has been trying to do an armpit fart. He saw one of my brothers do it and has been obsessed ever since. Sam has always been very hard on himself, when he was 3 and couldn't hit a baseball with a regular sized bat, he sat on home plate and said "I'm bad at everything" I know, could it have broken my heart more? NO, no it could not. Anyway, I have no idea where this comes from because I am probably the most encouraging and positive person in the world, probably too encouraging...for example: I have felt really bad for him not being able to armpit fart, not because I really wanted him to do it, but because HE really wanted to be able to do it. The Armpit fart just seems like a right of passage for little boys, and I wanted him to be able to achieve it. Well, we've tried everything, I've even wiped my own spit underneath his armpit thinking that would help (It didn't). Then suddenly today...he did it. What surprised me more than him doing this finally, was how excited I was. You would think he had just learned algebra, I got up and started jumping around like a complete idiot. We were jumping around in a circle holding hands saying "armpit fart" over and over. What in the hell happened to me? I used to be a girl right? If someone came up to me tomorrow and asked me what my most exiting moment this week was and I was being honest, I would have to say: " My son figured out how to make a fart noise with his armpit."

Want to talk to the garbage?

Me: Sure, what does it want to talk about.

Sam: Never mind, it doesn't want to talk to you.

Me: You are a silly goosen foosen.

Sam: That made my wiener tickle.

Me: What did?

Sam. You saying that.

Me: why would it make your wiener tickle?

Sam: Because I put the walkie talkie on my wiener when you said it.

Me: Ummm, okay. I'm sorry?

Sam: I forgive you.