The other day I told Griffin I was sad that he would be four soon. His response: "It's okay Mom. Four isn't a big kid yet, so I can still cuddle with you."
Just yesterday I was telling Griffin that we would be going home to Wisconsin soon. We were listing off who we were going to see, and when we got to Papa Bill, he said, "He has a dog, right? What's his name again?" The conversation went on a little bit, and then he said, WORD FOR WORD, "Papa Bill says that Doogie doesn't have any teeth. I just don't see how that's possible."
Seriously, where does he come up with this stuff?
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