U Smell Like Poop LOL

It's been quite a summer for me and The Roc. So far, highlights have included a 20-mile bike ride (towing The Roc in a trailer, which was a lot like towing an actual rock in a trailer), sneaking into Legoland (inadvertently! how was I to know they recently changed their free-admission-after-7 policy?), getting knocked over by a rogue wave at the beach, and seeing some adorable baby cheetahs. Also, The Roc has turned into a human Twitter feed, keeping up a running narrative of his own eventful life. For example:

"The wave knocked me over."

"I am all wet."

"Mommy is all wet."

"I have sand in my diaper."

"Mommy is changing my diaper."

"My legs are up."

"My diaper is off."

"Mommy is wiping me."

"I have a new diaper."

"My legs are down."

"I pick you up, Mommy."

Occasionally, The Roc has trouble with his personal nouns. He also has trouble keeping his mouth shut. I should have known, given his penchant for verbiage and the recent incident at the donut shop, that The Roc was going to spill the beans about our shopping trip for Daddy's birthday present, even though I explicitly told him that it was a Big Big Secret.

"Don't tell Daddy," I said, and I made him repeat it, just to be safe.

The ink on the credit card receipt was hardly dry when The Roc announced, in Daddy's hearing:

"I want to play with the helicopter."

"Which helicopter?" I asked, genuinely puzzled. We have a lot of helicopters around here.

"The helicopter in the box!" he replied.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said evenly, motioning for him to shush when Daddy wasn't looking.

"The helicopter in the box in Mommy's car!" The Roc insisted, loudly.

"There's no helicopter in Mommy's car, silly."

By this time, Daddy was beginning to catch on.

"What color is the helicopter?"

"Yellow!"

"Is it a big helicopter?"

The Roc looked at me, then looked at Daddy, and said:

"Don't tell Daddy!"