Three-year-olds have quite the imagination.
Hayden placed his most loyal toy, Woody, on a "platter" (a pillow), stuck him in the "oven" (underneath the coffee table) and turned the oven on and then off. He then took him out and stirred him all around with various wooden spoons, spatulas and whisks he had gotten from the kitchen drawer.
"I've made you a very special meal," he said as he handed Woody to me on the platter.
"I don't want to eat Woody, honey!" I replied.
"He tastes like chicken," he told me.
Where do they get this stuff?
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1 comment:
That's my boy! I would have been really worried if he would have said " Don't worry Mommy, Woody's only 2 points"!
Loved the weekend with all of you!
It's good to get to be able to smooch baby cheeks and get Hayden kisses and hugs! Filled my heart to the top and overflowing. Love ya gobs!
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