Jamie, after bonking his head: “I’ll prolly be okay.”
Conversation at breakfast:
“I love you, Jamie.”
“I love you, Charles.”
“I love you, poopy.”
“I love you, pee pee.”
“I love you, penis.”
“I love you, butt.”
Charles, whispering to me: “Mommy, Jamie smells like a raccoon.”
Never a dull moment, I swear.
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