At my wife’s sister’s house today. As usual, 5-year-old Jack astonishes me with his odd & imaginative remarks…
In the swing with Oskar (our 2 1/2 year old), Jack tells him “Shhh. There’s no mustard like this in the whole world. …” (pause) Cabbages!!” Both scream, Oskar laughs.
“Cabbages! Cabbages on my pants — get it off! Wait — cabbages can’t get me under this umbrella… It’s raining cabbages. And painted balls. They’re painted white.”
He calls the evergreen tree “Spiky Mama.”
“I have … Annoying Feet!”
“Smell my feet. Just smell them. No, really, when I do this they smell beautiful, like cake.”
His aunt Meaghan takes his picture, he says, “That’s going to be on the news.”
He takes a picture of Oskar, then says “You’re rich!”
Sitting on a canoe by the sandbox: “That’s the couch. Press this button.” I press the spot on the canoe where he’s pointing. “No, this button.” Ok, I press a different spot, a couple inches away. He starts massaging my shoulders. “It massages you. Push the button to turn it off.” — “No, I think I’ll just leave it on.” — “Ok, but it’ll start on fire.”
He is knocking on the imaginary door under the ladder, the door to the sandbox (“house”). I say, “Who is it?” — “Buzz Dietzchler.” Me (after digesting this name): “Dietzchler! Come in, sir!” — Jack: “I can’t open the door because I have a broken arm today.” — “How’d you get that?” — “Heart attack.”
Jack: “Open the mummy cage.” (The toy fridge lying on its back on the ground is the “mummy cage.”) — Me: “Why can’t you open it?” He gestures to indicate his arms, I realize he is standing like a cowboy, with his shoulders hunched up — “Um, broken arms?” Later he forgets. “Oh oh — you caught me. I didn’t really break my arms. I was trying to steal your refrigerator. We have no food at our house.”
“I’m in jail. Pretend you found the key. Oh, and pretend you found a chihuahua.”
I couldn’t make this stuff up.