Heard at My House

As I was dishing up supper…

Jeremiah: Mama can I have some Holy Moly?

Mama: Do you mean guacamole?

Jeremiah: Yesss!

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Heard at My House

This kid MIGHT be my son.

Me: Duncan, you are all done school for a whole week because we have to go to Edmonton for Maleah’s appointments.

Duncan: Yay! Can we go to AFRICA on these days off?

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Heard at My House

Don’t ever think that as a parent you are not an educator…

Kenya: Mama, do Christians and Catholics and Hermans all believe in Jesus?

Me: Hermans? Do you mean Mormons, honey?

Kenya: Yes. Are they the people who wear the funny hats?

Me: I think you’re thinking of Jewish men who wear yarmulkes.

Kenya: What does Jewish mean, Mom?

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Heard at My House

I think my daughter is starting to feel sorry for me…

Maleah: Jeremiah, you no poop in diaper. You poop in potty. White one, not green one (portable potty). Green one not wash. Only white one.

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Heard at My House

This is a shining example of the fact that my children need not have an actual reason to try to get each other in trouble.

Kenya: Jeremiah, you ARE a boy.

Jeremiah: No, I’m Jer-miah. MOOO-OOOM! Kenya said I’m a BOY!

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>Heard at My House

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Jeremiah: (bringing me a cabbage patch doll) Mommy, I change-ah baby’s bum-bum.

Mama: Ok JJ.

Jeremiah: I need-ah wipes. Baby stinky.
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>Heard at My House

>

Kenya: (reading the box containing the new doll she received as a birthday gift) Mom look! My new baby durps when you feed her. 

Mama: That is a “b”, not a “d” honey. 

Kenya: Oh. She burps.

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