Kids should come with a warning label.
Such as - warning - we will say all sorts of interesting things at all sorts of times. Loud enough for the neighbors to hear. In church. During prayer time. We will also repeat all sorts of things out of context.
Since they don't come with the label attached, I've decided to try to remain... flexible.
Wednesday was a glorious sunshiney morning around here. The birds were singing. The breeze was just a breeze and not a prairie gale-force wind. All was well with the world. Insert song: Louis Armstrong's What A Wonderful World.
A kind friend had borrowed me her tiller and the girls and I had all sorts of fun prepping the garden for our veggies.
And then, as I am yanking a few large weeds from the garden bed and tossing them aside I hear THIS from across the back yard...
Little M says (with a great amount of concern AND authority)...
Mommy. Your b.u.m. is bigger than the tiller!!
Stop the music. Stop the birds.
Such is gardening with kids!
I swear they're gonna give me a complex yet!!!