After careful consideration, I have decided not to pursue the story behind the little puffs of shaving foam that have appeared randomly around my basement.
Me: “What happened to the sink here?”
Him: “Maybe somebody tried to plug it with a bunch of dried leaves.”
Me: “Was that somebody you?”
Him: “It might have been, it could have been someone else though I’m not sure.”
“Daddy it’s sad that Queen Elizabeth wasn’t around in the wild west.”
His reliance upon classmates to keep him abreast of current affairs has had mixed results at best.
The world would be such a wonderful and amazing place if even just half of his inventions worked.
I find myself frequently pining for the days before he had an opinion on everything.
An investigation into noises from his room at 2:54 am. led to the discovery of him singing “Jingle Bells” whilst fast asleep.
His Lego fort is defended by an indestructible shield, his cousin’s is armed with an unstoppable laser.
He is only seven, but the lecture I just received regarding the Kung-Fu abilities of raccoons would definitely count as Mansplaining.
Noises from upstairs.
Me:” Are you sawing something?”
Him: “No, Daddy, I don’t have a saw.”
Me: “Oh yeah, that’s right. Ok”
Him: “I’m using a hammer.”