Where does time go? I remember when my niece and nephew were mere babes. Now they’re acne-faced teenagers. They used to keep me in stitches all the time when they were small. Like the time I was playing the kiddie version of the dozens with them – yeah, I did that – and was beat by a 4-year-old. I called him peanut butter toes and he called me booger face. Hi-lar-ious! Maybe another type of aunt would not have played this game. But hey, that aunt ain’t me. I live to laugh at this crazy stuff!
And like another time my brother told me about recently. He said one day, while he was in his son’s room, his son (toddler age then and not talking so well yet) walked up to him eating a corn dog. My brother looked puzzled because he knew they didn’t have corn dogs that day. Corn dogs were definitely on the menu the day before. He asked his son where he got the corn dog. My nephew obediently pointed to the toy box in the corner! His own little refrigerator! He had obviously stuck it there for safe keeping. People…you can’t make this stuff up!
Or like the time my friend’s baby sister (2 years old then) decided to play make-up with her sleeping father. She put toilet paper between every crevice of his that she could – between his toes, fingers, behind his ears, and in his nostrils. He finally woke up when she was about to stuff the last nostril!