In the backyard, next to a rapidly dying pumpkin vine:
"What kind of bugs are dose?"
"I don't know, but we're going to catch one and take it to the garden center so they can tell us."
"Are they stink bugs? Baa haa haa! Stink bugs are the funniest bugs!"
"No they're not stink bugs. Stand back! They're giving me the heebeegeebees."
"Is that the Spanish word for hiccups?"
(Racking my brain.) "No, I think...uh...hipo is?"
"You don't seem so sure."
"I'm not."
"Why?"
"Because I'm getting old."
"And forgetitful?"
On our way to the garden center, pointing out a trailer hauling something:
"Wow! I've never seen a machine like that before. What is it?"
"Uhh...uhh...I have no idea. (And it's hard to stump me these days when it comes to vehicles.) It looks a little bit like a miniature Zamboni."
"That weminds me...can we go ice fishing later today?"
"Ice fishing?"
"Sure. All you need is a saw, and some chairs, and a fishing pole, and mittens, and snacks..."
At the garden center:
"Let's see what you have."
"Is it a stink bug? Is it a stink bug?"
"Actually, it is! Amazing! You have a Horticulturist on your hands!"
"I told you so Mommy."
(No, it was because we saw stink bugs mentioned in some random book last week, probably Dr. Seuss, and he's been obsessed ever since.)
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