This is my baby nephew--a whopping 4 years old, entertaining himself at the big birthday party last Sunday. He used to suck on my finger and make tiny bird sounds. Now, he operates a remote-control car.
Sniff, sniff. I need a minute.
He loves to fix everything. The batteries fell out of the back of his car, here. We called the best mechanic in the whole world to the rescue...my B-Lowe.
B-Lowe asked my lil' buddy the following questions (man to man):
1. What happened?
2. Where's the battery cover?
3. Where'd ya get this car?
The 4 year old's answers:
"The batteries fell out of the back."
"It didn't come with a cover, it's just from a yard sale."
Did you notice how the 4 year old answered each of B-Lowe's questions in order and answers were precise?
My answers to B-Lowe sound like the following: "Something is very, very wrong with my car, there's this picture of half of a car, with a hammer sticking out of the side, or maybe the trunk. Is there someone in my trunk?!! They say if a perpetrator locks you in a trunk, you should try and knock out a tail light. I want YOU to drive it today and maybe fix it. Maybe look in the trunk." If you don't remember that post, click here. Good times.
This is my baby lamb nephew. My sister grew him in her womb and pushed him out one year ago. Whatever you do, DO NOT smell the top of his head....
And definitely don't look at this picture of him learning to walk with his daddy, it will make your cervix quiver. I wish my dang sister would put orange cones all around this kid. I'm thinking of banning her from family functions.