A Small Collection of Conversations in the Car with My Three-Year-Old Son

Son: I'm gonna eat you all up like a hot dog, Daddy.
Me: No!
Son: Put ketchup and mustard on you.
Me: No, no!
Son: Num num num I'm eating you up!
Me: Oh God no, stop!
Son: Num num num num!  Urp.  All gone!
Me: I guess that's it, then.

~~~

Me: *peering out through the windshield at the rain* Nice day for the ducks, eh?
Son: Squirrels, too.
Me: Why the squirrels?
Son: They're nice and warm in the tree.
Me: What about the turtles?
Son: No.

~~~

Me: Are you gonna get tattoos when you grow up?
Son: Daddy, please sit on...ahhh...please sit on, uh...please sit on...ahhhh...please sit on...sit on MY lap. Please sit on MY little lap.
Me: Your lap's not big enough for me to sit on, buddy-roo.
Son: I have money in my pocket.
Me: Where did you get money? Can I have some?
Son: No.

~~~

Me: What did you have for your snack today?
Son: No me remember.
Me: Yes, you do!  It was an hour ago.  Can you tell me what you ate?  Was it cookies?
Son: Yes.  Cookies.
Me: You're just saying that because I said it.  Did you really have cookies?
Son: Uh-huh.
Me: What kind of cookies?  Did they have cheese on them?
Son: Uh-huh.
Me: And peanut butter?
Son: Uh-huh.
Me: And beans?
Son: Uh-huh.
Me: I think you're making that up.
Son: No me remember.