Cutey cuteness
While I am loathe to bang on about how adorable my children are...actually, that's rubbish. I love banging on about how adorable my children are and here are some reasons why:
This week, Mr Four was kneeling on the floor, crying. Mr Two, hauled him up (by his neck!) hugged him, turned to me and said "I wuv my brudda".
This morning Mr Two stubbed his toe, and was crying. Mr Four got him a tissue, and said "You are so bwave."
They love Ben10. Whenever the forces of good need to overpower the forces of evil in our household, Mr Four turns into "Four arms" and punches the air. Mr Two becomes "Accelerate" (cell-wait), and blasts the air with his robot hands (Accelerate doesn't have robot hands - the boy is just riffing).
Jet Ray is a character on Ben10 Alien Force. Mr Four calls him "Jet Raid". Mr Two calls him "Jet Brain".
They both think "McDonalds" is actually "Big Donalds".
Mr Four tries to say "footpath", but it comes out "Poof Parf".
Mr Two still puts his hand down my shirt, a hang-over from breastfeeding days. Sometimes, when we are snuggled up for his bedtime at the end of the day, I ask him "Do you love Mummy?" He shoots back, "No, I wuv your boobies." That's him cracking a joke.
Mr Two thinks "Oh my goodness" is said "Oh no goodness!"
Their laughter is a chuckle in their belly that bubbles up and out of their mouths, and sounds like liquid honey.
Their idea of heaven is 20 minutes at Merv Smith's hobby shop.
For his birthday (in 7 months), Mr Four wants a deluxe Knappford Station for his Thomas set, a Ben10 Alien Force DVD, and Barbie Mermaids.
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