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Wednesday, June 10, 2009

"My gross little friend."

She brings me a little plastic shoebox lined with a tissue. I look in, interested. "Whatcha got there?" I ask. It looks like a dead slug.

"It's my gwoss wittle fwiend," she explains.

"Well, that certainly is descriptive," I answer. "But what is it?"

"I told you alweady! It's my gwoss wittle fwiend!"

And then I look closer. And what is this little creature that my Four has so lovingly mothered?

A wrinkly old mushroom from last night's dinner, covered in dirt and hair. She must've found it under the kitchen table or something.

"Oh God," I say. "It's covered in dirt. You might want to find a different friend."

"That's not dirt!" she insists. "It's eggs! And I'll throw him away when he hatches all his eggs."

I seriously think four is the weirdest age of all.


Stuff On My Blog said...

ROFLMAO oh My. Yes, 4 is quite the interesting age isn't it ;) That's just a riot!

June & Sean said...

Haha, oh I'm gagging and laughing at the same time. My son is always bringing me little pieces of lint and trash that are his new treasures.

Anonymous said...

Oh....that is just priceless.