The other night we decided to hang out in Fayetteville for awhile. On the way home Garrett wanted to stop at the liquor store because a certain one carries the independent beer labels that he loves. Since the kiddos were in the car I sat and supervised whilst he ran in to get beers that I, in my pregnant state, would drool over with a deep and unresolvable jealousy. The trip in was quick. He popped back into the vehicle in no time and we drove off. I was distracted looking out the window, laughing at BloggingDangerously's Twitter feed and blog and texting Mrs. Sadie Perkins... A couple of miles away from the store this conversation ensued:
*Distracted and not looking at Garrett* Me: Did you find some good ones?
Garrett: Nose boogeys?
Me: What the hell?!! NO? Sick! What are you talking about!
*I turn to him only to discover his index finger knuckle deep in his nose.*
Me: God Garrett! No! Gross! I was talking about the beer! But thanks for the update!
Garrett: Yeah. I found some good beers and some good boogers.
And there are days I wonder how my three year old has the capacity to say things like, "Mom... we need to get jiggy wit it." And then I remember who his father is and it all becomes clear.
Garrett suggested I title this post "Pick Roll Flick", and homage to stop drop and roll... what is wrong with him?