Wyatt and I were staring at clouds. "That one wooks wike a BUFFAWO! See? He has one, two, free, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten eweven HORNS!" Then he pointed to another one. "That one wooks wike... a cwoud!"
Wyatt took my trash bag and ran away with it. He then hid it. "HA!" he said triumphantly. "You'll never find it now!" Then added in a normal voice... "Just don't look anywhere it is."
We were on our way to tour a second preschool. "Is it a big kid school?" asked Wyatt "Because I'm just a yittle smaller than big."
We were reading "I'll Love You Forever" (Is there ANYONE who can get through that book without crying, btw?) and it got to the part where the boy was 9 years old and was saying bad words. "What bad words he say?" Wyatt asked. "Yike b-i-t-c-h or somefing?"
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