Last Friday, Big and I were talking about our plan to go bowling as a family and he kept informing me that he was going to win. A little while later, while picking up the girls from school, we had this conversation--
Big: "Mom? Can I gloat?"
Me (just assuming he was still referring to his future bowling victory): "Well, I guess you could, but it's really not nice."
Me (after a few seconds to think about it): "Do you even know what it means to gloat?!?" (I mean, I know he has an impressive vocabulary... but gloat?!)
Big: "It means to fly up into the sky!"
Me (a little disappointed): "Oh. That's floating, Big, not gloating. You meant to ask if you can float."
(I then gave him the definition of 'gloat'. Maybe a 2-year-old doesn't need it, but I gave it to him anyway)
Me: "And... you can't float, because people can't do that, and you shouldn't gloat because it isn't being a good sport and isn't nice."
That'll teach him.
* * * * *
Then, on our way to dinner after bowling (Big did beat several of the attendees, by the way) we went over a stomach-dropping bump. We all kind of said "Woah!" and Bud exclaimed, "That made my penis wiggle!"
* * * * *
Yesterday, Rophone played a game of Memory with Bud. Playing Memory with Bud is not for the faint of heart. Or for those who hate to lose. Bud rocks at Memory.
At one point in the game Rophone got a couple of matches in a row and began to feel hopeful, only to have Bud look down at his much larger pile and crow, "You can't beat me! I'm the GREATEST!" He was so sweet in his cockiness, and was speaking the truth, so we could do nothing but agree.
* * * * *
Rophone played a little hoop with the two boys yesterday, too. As they came into the room where I was when they were done, Big gave me a little head nod and said, "Hey, Mom. The six of us were playing some hoop."
He's smart. I swear. Maybe he was counting arms.
Or legs. Or something.