Me: Owen, why did you throw that hard plastic ball at your baby brother's head?
Owen: I don't know.
Owen: Mommy, what are teeth for?
Me: Teeth are for chewing, and smiling, and eating, and---
Owen: For biting Baby Joel!
Me: (Feeling some 1996-era nostalgia, and singing Dave Matthews in my kitchen.) "I'm the king of the castle, you're the little rascal/Crash into me..." (Yes, I know the song is an extended innuendo, but Owen isn't one for metaphor and nuance, yet).
Owen: What are you making that noise for?
Me: Because it makes me happy.
Owen: It makes my tummy hurt.
Owen: What are you talking for?
Me:
Me: What kind of cake should Mommy have for her birthday?
Owen: A Diego Cake! (well, duh...)
Owen: Is Mommy going to use the breast pump today?
Me: No.
Owen: Oh. Is Daddy going to use the breast pump today?
Owen (peering into the toilet): What's that?
Me: You know what that is.
Owen: (laughing hysterically) That's my yummy lunch! Now it's poo-poo!
Me: (to myself) What am I unleashing onto the world?
Owen: O-W-E-N, that's OWEN!
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