(…because the three-year-old Gremlin has been oh-so close now that he’s not getting TV for a while.)
At the gas station:
The attendant takes my credit card, asks, “How much would you like, ma’am?”
Bryce laughs and snorts from the backseat. “He called you ma’am! Doesn’t he know your name is Mom! He’s so dumb.”
The priest says, “…through Christ our Lord, Amen.”
His head darts up from whatever mischief he was planning at that moment. “Hey. He just said through Bryce our Lord, Amen.” A twisted smile whips across his little face.
At the dentist:
The dentist peers into his mouth. “You have nice teeth.”
Bryce smiles that devilish grin of his. “I have shark teeth.”
The dentist lifts his brow. “You mean sharp teeth? Open up.” He leans close.
Bryce snaps his jaws shut and grins, narrowly missing the dentist’s fingers. “Nope. Shark teeth. See?”
At a girlfriend’s house, while he’s playing Lego’s with two fifth grade boys:
He stands, waves a hand. “Hold on guys. I just pooped. I gotta go get my mom to change me. I’ll be right back.”
(No…he just doesn’t get it.)