This shall be included in the section of my book, co-authored with Laura Woolf, entitled Conversations with Thomas Woolf FTW.
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My handsome prince, T, puts on a plaid shirt and says, "I'm going to college. Bye!"
He walks over to his mom, she gives him a high-five and says, "Bye! Make good grades!"
Then he chuckles, shakes his head and says, "I'm just kidding."
When we began discussing possible dinner options, he shouts, "Strawberries."
Laura: T wants strawberries.
T: And broccoli!
Laura: T wants strawberries and broccoli.
T: [holds up imaginary sign] This is me holding up my sign for strawberries and broccoli!
The grownup conversation ranges from what's for dinner to childcare rates to the evening news, and in the midst of all this, we'd missed him going out into the garage, supposedly to get ideas for what to have for dinner tonight.
He walks back in with a catcher's helmet on and declares, "I don't know what kind of soup you like!"
He also suggests dirty rice.
"But dirty rice isn't actually dirty."
Thank goodness for that!
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T: One time I went to a condo.
Me: You did?!
T: Yeah. And stayed the night.
Then he goes and tells his mommy the same thing. Describing the colors of the different condos surrounding them.
Laura: How do you remember the colors of the condos??
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T, now sporting his plaid flannel pjs with the shirt unbuttoned, walks toward his father and says, "I ate all my salad. Feel how much salad is in my tummy," and sticks out his belly for his daddy to feel.
"Wow! That's a lot of salad."
Well, I'll say.
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