Subtle Like A Roc

"That shirt is pretty," The Roc told me, patting my stomach. "To make it more pretty, you could put a baby in it."

Have You Seen Your Mommy's Purse Lately?

The mommy of one of The Roc's friends is pregnant. Checking out her baby bump, The Roc asked: "Why do you have such a big..." I panicked, ready to jump in with an apology and a lecture on pregnancy-related etiquette. Then The Roc finished his sentence: "...such a big purse?"

Eating Animals

Although The Roc shows no signs of converting to vegetarianism, my four-year anti-meat propaganda campaign is finally paying off. The Roc now understands that chicken (the animal) and chicken (the food) are one and the same. At dinner, he always asks me: "Mommy, am I eating animals tonight?" And today at the grocery store, as we passed the live lobster tank, he said cheerfully and in full hearing of several of our fellow shoppers: "Bye bye, lobsters! You're going to have a sad life and then you'll get eaten!"

And I'm Playing Get Your Butt Back Into Bed

Early this morning, I awoke to the head-splitting cacophony of The Roc banging his toy broom against a metal folding chair.

"I'm playing musical chairs," he explained.

Dinner, She Wrote

Last night at the dinner table, The Roc draped his napkin over his head and pretended to type on a computer. "I'm Little Red Writing Hood," he explained, without irony.

Making A Monkey Out of Leroy

The Roc picked out his Halloween costume early this year; he's going to be a monkey. That left him with a lot of time on his hands to think about Leroy's costume. Leroy is our cat.

Aside from the logistics of getting Leroy into a Halloween costume, I pointed out that it might be hard to find one designed for a cat (a blatant lie; you can buy them at PetCo pretty much year-round). But this did not deter The Roc, who by now had his heart set on a matching monkey suit for Leroy.

"You just get some brown fabric and some yellow fabric and"--here he threw his arms up, to show how easy it would be--"done!"

Taking Out the Trash

Just when I thought The Roc already had every toy trash truck in the world, we spotted a slightly different one in a local toy store. When he was still talking about it on an hourly basis a week later, I realized that he was not going to give up his dream of owning it. Ever. The Roc knows what he likes, and he is nothing if not an obsessive completist--a trait I recognize and respect, because I share it.

But Daddy absolutely refused to consider expanding the fleet, which already occupies several square feet of prime real estate around the filing cabinet in our combination office/playroom. I informed The Roc that he was going to have to figure out a way to convince Daddy that buying yet another trash truck was a good idea.

"It could be a surprise for Daddy," he suggested.

"Surprises are supposed to be nice things," I explained. "That kind of surprise won't make Daddy very happy."

"We could call the police and they could put Daddy in jail and then we could go to the store and buy it."

"Ummm....no."

"We could sell some of my old toys on Craig's List and use the money to buy it."

Bingo. A few hours later, we had a emptied a corner of the office/playroom and made enough cash to buy the trash truck with a couple of dollars left over. Daddy was thrilled.

Brontosaurus Burgers, Anyone?

Mommy: "What do you want for dinner?"

The Roc: "Meat."

Mommy: "What kind of meat?"

The Roc: "Dinosaur meat."