During our dinner at Red Robin tonight... Tucker pointed to the very cute, very feminine little girl sitting across the aisle from us (very much within listening distance).
Tuck: Look, Mommy! A little boy!
Me: No, Tuck, she's a girl.
Me: No, she's a girl.
Me: Girl. She's a girl. What are you?
T: A girl.
Me: No, you're a boy. And daddy's a boy, and Tyler's a boy. What is mommy?
T: A boy.
Me: No, I'm not, and neither is she.
Upon leaving Red Robin, we always make a big deal about letting go of the balloon he received upon entering the restaurant. Starting mid-meal, we talk about counting to three, letting go, and watching the balloon go up-up-up in the sky.
We do this every time, and Tuck is pretty sure it's what you do with balloons. We have let many, many of them go in this fashion.
Tonight, as he let go, he shouted up into the sky, "Bye, Balloon! Go see your mommy!"
We needed to buy diapers tonight. We were down to the last two in the house, which is dangerously low. Thankfully, we are only buying diapers for Tyler. (But don't let me fool you. We buy Pull-ups for Tucker. But we're buying fewer and fewer, since they stay dry for longer and longer. It's progress.)
We had a family date, complete with the said dinner out and then a mall crawl. Robb and I reminded each other may times throughout the night: we need to go to the store to buy diapers and milk. Two minds are better than one, and we could not start another day without a fresh supply of both.
Diapers. Milk. Don't forget.
As we were leaving the mall, this conversation ensued:
Me: Tuck, let's put on your jacket. Time to go home.
T: No, not home, Mommy. Store.
M: Right. You are so right. We'll go to the store. What do we need to buy?
Nice try, kiddo.