“Get off his head”
“Don’t jump on the baby!”
“Crap, the baby’s eating trash again”
“Get down off the wall” (Yes, my boys can physically climb a wall!)
“Get that chicken out of here!”
“Don’t put your cereal in the VCR”
“Does anyone know where the baby is??”
“The baby is hanging on the DVD drive again”
“How much is a new DVD drive?”
“I know it’s yours but just let him have it so he’ll stop screaming!”
“If you kick his seat one more time I’ll cut your legs off at the knees!”
(Don’t worry, this is usually followed by their peals of laughter – and more kicking of the back of the seat)
“I know they’re all crying, just take the picture anyway so we can get out of here.”
“I’m pregnant AGAIN?!?” (Followed by an intense scowl at my very bewildered husband)
“Just leave it on the floor, the baby will eat it.”
“Is it possible to completely eliminate the hours between 4 and 9pm?”
“I wish I drank alcohol”
“No, but I think their mom’s around here somewhere” (In response to an incredulous looking woman at Target asking if the boys running around the toy department were mine)
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