March 26, 2012
Last night, Hubby and I were discussing what our meal plan is going to be for our family trip. Since Jacob had taken a three-hour nap after we got home from church, he was the only child still awake.
I was brainstorming out loud some easy homemade snacks, and I said,
"So Jacob, what would you like better? Homemade rolls, or zucchini bread?"
Jacob: "Uhh... homemade wolves!"
Me: "Haha, no not wolves, R.O.L.L.S."
Jacob: "Oh. Then I want.... bikini bread!"
Maybe I was just slap happy but I was laughing so hard. Hubby just kind of smiled, clearly not finding it quite as amusing as I did.
Reminds of me of a few days ago when he-who-shall-not-be-named passed gas in the kitchen. Just moments later Jacob walked in, got the most disgusted look on his face and exclaimed, "Ugh! It smells like scrambled eggs in here!"
I'm sure he had meant "rotten eggs" but the mix-up of phrasing had Hubby laughing so hard he was doubled over with tears streaming down his face. I don't think he breathed normally for half an hour because every time he thought of it, he burst into hard laughter all over again.
I thought it was funny, but not that funny.
Still, it has become a new phrase in our house because Hubby just can't let it go.
I try to teach my boys.... ALL my boys, manners but sometimes *shrug*, what can you do.