(Regarding anything he does not want to do) "No fank you. Maybe some other day."
"When I eat all these foods on my plate, will they just crash all on top of each other in my tummy?
"Mommy, what if a food said 'No, I don't want to go in your tummy!'?"
"Yes, I did eat my sandwich. I am a growing man."
O: I don't want to go to school today. I am not big. I am a little boy.
Me: But preschool is a place just for little boys.
O: Well, then there needs to be little teachers there.
(I decide not to argue, and fifteen minutes pass and it is time to get shoes on and get in the car)
O: But Mom, I TOLD you. There are no little teachers there, so I am not going.
After school is over:
Me: Did you stop being sad after you got to school?
O: Yes, but why does Mrs. J hang on to me like that when I just want to tell you one more thing?
Me: Because you are crying and hanging on to me, and I have to leave. Why don't you tell me what you did today?
O: I'll just tell you one thing, and then watch my show. We sang an elephant song.
Me: Oh, that sounds fun. What song was it? Can you sing it for me?
O: No, that was the thing I wanted to tell you. Now, give me my earphones please.
Not O-speak, but this morning, right after I got N. up and was cuddling her in bed, O. appeared in the dark wearing his "foot pajamas" and the giant stuffed fish hat we had considered for a Halloween costume. He grinned, and then proceeded to poke N. with the fish's snout and laugh and laugh.