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    Category: Sons & Daughters

    Reading You Your Rights

    | Thurmont, MD, USA | Children, Parents & Guardians, Sons & Daughters

    (I am five years old. My parents, my little brother, and I are on our way home after a day out.)

    Me: “I’m hungry! Mom, can stop somewhere?”

    Mom: “No, [My Name]. Besides, there isn’t anywhere out here to eat!”

    Me: “Yes, there is! That sign says ‘restaurant!’”

    Mom: “The jig is up! The kid can read!”

    This Tale Will Never Get Old

    | Arnold, MO, USA | Children, Grandparents, Sons & Daughters

    (My mother recounts this conversation she once had with my youngest son, age six, on a trip to the park one day.)

    Son: “Grammy, what is a ‘geezer’?”

    Mom: “A very old man.”

    Son: “Is Grandpa a ‘geezer’?”

    Mom: “Yes, I guess he is.”

    Son: “Does that make you ‘Missus Geezer’?”

    Mom: “Yes, sweetheart, I think it does.”

    Son: “Well, it’s okay, Grammy. You’re a good cook so Grandpa will probably keep you anyway.”

    Give Them What They Want Or There Will Be Blood, Part 2

    | Australia | Children, Sons & Daughters

    (My young son pricks his finger on a pin as I am sewing.)

    Son: “OWWW, hurt. Band-Aid.”

    (I look at his finger, there’s barely a mark, so I kiss it.)

    Me: “Mummy will kiss it better. No Band-Aid.”

    (My son sits down and starts squeezing his finger until a tiny drop of blood appears.)

    Son: *in hysterical voice* “BLOOD! BBLLLLOOOOOODDDDD!”

    Me: “I’ll get a Band-Aid.”

    (I put a Band-Aid on, and my son ran off happily. Five minutes later he ripped it off.)

    From NotAlwaysLearning:
    Give Them What They Want Or There Will Be Blood

    The Horror Of Housecleaning

    | Alexandria, VA, USA | Children, Sons & Daughters

    (I am about four years old. My family has taken me to a haunted house, and I am fascinated by the decorations.)

    Me: “Hey, look at these cobwebs! These are just like the ones we have at home!”

    A Novel Use Of The Navel

    | NC, USA | Children, Sons & Daughters

    (I’m about three years old at this time. My preschool teacher and a family friend are pregnant around the same time.)

    Me: “Mommy, how does baby get in tummies?”

    Mom: “When a man and a woman get married, God will give them a baby.”

    Me: “Okay.”

    (A few days later.)

    Me: “How does a baby get out of the tummy?”

    Mom: *slightly surprised* “There’s a special spot on a woman’s body.”

    Me: “Okay.”

    (A few days later…)

    Me: “Where’s that special spot? Is it the belly button?”

    Mom: “You know what? What about we go get some ice cream?”

    (I thought the baby came out of the belly button for the next seven years…)

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