Miles and I made some holiday treats as gifts for his teachers.
A:Â Did your teachers like their presents?
M:Â Yes.
A:Â Did you tell them that you helped make them?
M: Yes. Well, I told one of them.
A:Â Which one?
M: Mrs. Jensen. (huge smile) But I got hugs from both of them!
Miles was talking in his sleep.
M:Â Do you even know what a dudju is?
Tobin got a box of Band-Aids out of the bathroom drawer and was trying to open them. He was having a hard time figuring out how to get into them.
T:Â Where’s the…door to this?
—
A moment later, after he found the “door,” he started tearing the perforations between the Band-aid wrappers.
T:Â I’m breaking these.
A:Â Uh-oh.
T:Â What do you think of that?
Tobin had a rough night, waking up several times heaving and spitting up (no major pukage; just phlegm and post-nasal drip, I think). This morning, he was lying pathetically on the hallway floor, and Miles went to check on him.
M:Â You’re not feeling so well, are you?
T:Â I spit out my brains.
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