Room Service

While attending Family Day at his sister's college, The Brat Child was able to stay in a hotel- a rare and much loved treat.  He climbed up the bed and picked up the phone.

Me: Put the phone down! What are you doing?
Brat Child: I was calling McDonald's to get some food.
Me: McDonald's doesn't deliver.
Brat Child: Yes they do.
Me: No, they don't!

The next day we see this in the parking lot....

Brat Child: I told you McDonald's delivered!

God and Babies

Brat Child: God made all the trees right?
Me: Sure.
Brat Child: And He made people?
Me: Yes, He made Adam and Eve.
Brat Child: So, who pooped out the babies?
Me:(cue chirping crickets) Well, it all started with Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden...
Brat Child: So God popped out the babies?

A Little Brother

 

Brat Child (crying): I don't have anyone to play with! I want a baby brother! 
Me: Sorry, not happening. 
Brat Child: (still crying) But all my friends have brothers and I don't. I want a brother!
Me: You're my last kid, no more babies.
Brat Child: But I want a baby brother! (wailing) Can you just poop one out, please?! 
Me: What?! 
Brat Child: Like a chicken egg. Just poop out a baby brother.

The Zombie Song

The Brat Child's favorite song is We Will Rock You performed by Queen.  He has his mother's excellant musical taste. When it plays, no one else is allowed to sing along except him.
One evening I asked him about the song...

Me: Why is We Will Rock You your favorite song?
Brat Child: 'A cuz it's about zombies.
Me: It is? I thought it was more about winning.
Brat Child: (sighing deeply obviously irritated at his mother's lack of knowledge) No, it's about Zombies, Mom. They say "blood on your face", that's talking about a zombie.  Zombies have blood all on their faces from eating brains. And it's talking about a guy who gets bit in the head by a zombie and now his face is bleeding.
Me: Really? I never got that from that song before.
Brat Child: That's 'a cuz you don't know about zombies or zombie songs.
Me: What about the "mud on your face" part or "kicking your can?"
Brat Child: The guy that got bit fell down trying to get away from the zombie and he got mud on him.  Then the zombie knocked down the trash cans because zombies walk with their arms out not really looking where they're going.
Me: I totally get the song now.
Brat Child: You'reWelcome.

So Proud

Gettysburg National Military Park

"Look, Mama, I can stick my fingers in his nose!"

He's an American

This past weekend, the Brat Child was watching TV with his grandfather.  

They were watching an episode of Star Trek Next Generation, 

which featured a creature from the past or the future 

depending on whether you look at it from your current time period 

or the time period of the show's plot.  

But I digress.

Brat Child: What is that? Is that an Alien?
Midge: It's wearing white does that mean it's a good guy?
Brat Child: It's an American. An American Alien

Magic Potion

Midge: I have a headache
Brat Child: You need some Ivy Potion
Midge: Ivy Potion?
Brat Child: Grandma, do you have any Ivy Potion for Midge?
Me: Ooooh, Ibuprofen!
Brat Child: That's what I said: Ivy Potion!

Keeping It In The Family

While at dinner one night...
     Brat Child: Can I marry Midge?
     Me: No, you can't marry your sister.
     BC: Not even when I'm as old as you?
     Me: You can never marry your sister even if you're old. The law says you can't.
     BC: But what happens when I get old and she gets old and she has another family. I'll miss her!

Diamonds

Brat Child: (climbing into bed one morning and putting his arm around me) You wanna kiss at the beach baby?
Me: Uh, no, you don't really say stuff like that to your mom.
BC: How 'bout if I marry you?
Me: You can't marry your mom.
BC: How'bout Midge.  She's not a mom.
Me: No you can't marry your sister, that's legal only in Kentucky and West Virginia not legal in Pennsylvania, Maryland or Virginia.
BC: Den I'm gonna marry you.
Me: OK fine.
BC: I'm gonna marry you, Mom, and den I'm gonna buy you diamonds at Wal-Mart.

The Whiz

This video was taken back when the Brat Child was about 3 years old.  He is telling us about a dream he had. An epic dream.  I'm sure you'll be able to pick up some references to the Wizard of Oz.

A few quick word clarifications to better understand what he's talking about.

Durm= storm
gweem= green
Stickinstein= Frankenstein
Bashwhite= flashlight
Bire twuck= Fire truck
Barted= farted
beet= feet
bitch/vitch= witch

No Cream Please!

 

On one of our many excursions during vacation, we opted to stop at a fast food joint grease hole restaurant to get something to drink.  Of course the Brat Child wanted chocolate chip cookies.  Because lunch was planned in the near future, I didn't want his meal spoiled by empty calories, so to tempt him away from the cookies I suggested- a Chocolate Milkshake (as any good mother would because if you suck those empty calories up in a straw they aren't as filling as if you actually chewed before swallowing or something like that).  Brat Child was not easily swayed until I explained that it was chocolate ice cream you eat with a STRAW. 

"This is Goom.  I like choc-it shakes!"  He was a fan at the first sip.  (why he can say "amazing" with precise clarity but can't get that "good" has a d not an m on the end of it is beyond me).

So a few days after the shake initiation, we were headed home from the beach.  Passing the Hardee's, my mom asked if anyone was thirsty.  Being tired, we opted to just go home.  Until the Brat Child started yelling (please note any capitalization or enlarged font denotes extreme volume), "Go Back! Go Back! I want a CHOC-IT SHAKE!"  So my mom turned around, and Brat Child's head stopped spinning 360 degrees and was no longer vomiting pea soup. 

We ordered our drinks and 2 shakes (Midge also wanted one) and of course Hardee's, while slow, makes a damn fine shake complete with whipped cream.  Unfortunately, the Brat Child doesn't think whipped cream is appropriate topping for choc-it shakes. 

Brat Child: I don't wike cweam
Midge: It's good
Brat Child:(now sobbing) I don't wike it!
Midge: I'll take it off
Brat Child: stoopid wady! (referring to the woman at the drive thru window)
Me: Hey! That isn't nice we don't call people stupid!
Brat Child: She is! She a STOOPID WADY she put CWEAM on MY CHOC-IT SHAKE AND I DON'T WANT IT!
Midge: Here's your shake I took the cream off
Brat Child: 'Anks mmm, dis gooom.

Crisis averted.  The next night, we ordered 5 shakes, one without "cweam". 

And they were GOOOOM!

God's Dog

One afternoon while driving down the road....

BC: Oh My GAWD!

Me: We don't say God, we say gosh.

BC: Is God a bad word like {bleep}

Me: Uh, no, God is, well, He um, He made all the trees and stuff and it just isn't nice to use His name like that, it's rude.

BC: oh, does He have a dog?

Me: Does God have a dog?

BC: yeah do Him have a dog?

Midge: Yeah, Mom, does He have a dog? (please note teenage sarcasm)

Me: I'm sure He has one.

BC: What's his name?

Me: The dog?

BC: Yeah, him have a name?

Me: I don't know, what do you think God would name His dog?

BC: I don't know, Mom, I never saw Him before. (note 4 year old imitation of teenage sarcasm)

Itchy

While riding home from the grocery store...

Grandma: Wait a minute my leg itches.

Brat Child: Sometimes my butt itches.

Grandma: Oh yeah?

Brat Child: Yes, I get a lot of bug bites.  Bugs bite my butt because it tastes like chicken.

Get Dressed

This isn't exactly what I meant when I told him to get dressed.