J: I can remember the things I say.

N: Like what?

J: Oh, I can’t remember.

I got Joseph a holder for playing cards. he tried it:

This stupid thing doesn’t work!!

Joseph, settle down. I think you are misunderstanding the directions.

I think the directions are misunderstanding ME!!

Joseph just came down (7am) laid out a case for Skittles now (“Mom, can I please have one if those really small bags of Skittles from my Halloween candy?” (denied) then suggested I go “root around in the van for [his] chips (fell out of Halloween stash on the ride home) so [he] can have a little salty snack on the way to school” (denied). I asked if he would perhaps care for Cheerios, on which I could offer blueberries. (Rejected.) He said, “you know–I think I’m going to go hop back in bed and get a few more winks!” He turned on his heels and went back to bed.

As I was putting Joseph to bed tonight, he says, “When I say the word Colorado, my brain feels like an egg carton. A round one.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Like, does that hurt or feel good?”

“It is bad but it also feels good.”

“What if you whisper it? Or just think it?”

“No, only if you say it out loud.”

“What if you say just “color?”

“No.”

“How about “shush kabob?” … “Joseph?”

(Totally and soundly asleep.)

We take Joseph trick-or-treating, he gets the candy, asks to pet the lady’s dog…few houses later, we’re waiting on the sidewalk, he’s up there getting candy, chatting away. “What’s he doing?” Noah says, “Looks like he’s petting another dog.” He comes down the walk. “What were you doing up there?” I ask. “I was petting that lady’s baby!” “Her baby?! Joseph, don’t ask to pet people’s babies, for Pete’s sake. A baby?” Haaaha.

Mom look what I found!! An Easter egg!

That Easter Bunny, he fills these with candy–that he steals from stores!!

Joseph, standing in front of me looking rather green, says, “Mommy, I feel bad. I drank the whole gallon.”

I rush him into the bathroom and he stands at the toilet crying. “Do you need to throw up or go potty?” “I do not know!” he cries.

He keeps crying and rubs his belly, “Mommy, can you let some milk out?”

“Gotta get these clowns outta my way! Jack and Susan. Psh. Clowns.”

We were in bed, pjs on, teeth brushed, stories read… “Mom, I’m still hungry…”

So after the requisite you-should-have-eaten-more-at-dinner speech, and about 20 more, “but I’m soooo hungry,” instead of telling him he’d have to wait for breakfast (after all he did eat all his chicken soup dinner), I offered up what I thought would be rejected immediately; the last thing I could choke down at 8pm (or anytime, really)… “How about a bowl of peas?”

It got an enthusiastic “ok!”

And, he was not bluffing.

He happily ate a bowl of peas, and then requested (and ate) a plain piece of wheat bread with some water.

And, then a banana.

Who is this kid? Now, it’s bedtime.

J: Hey! I’m Mr. Picasso!

How do you know who Picasso is?

J: He’s the guy who puts the eyes in the wrong places!