Random Stuff

We call Monson the police man.  Whenever we are hanging out with my sister and her kids, Monson is always policing what is going on.  If the twins have a toy, any toy, Monson takes it from them and tells us, "Logan had this!" (He can't tell the twins apart so he just takes a guess as to who he took it from.)  We always have to tell him that they can play with everything and to stop taking things from them.  He thinks he's helping.

When Monson has something to tell us he tells it like this:
Me: Monson, what did you do at school today?
Monson:  I went to school, now I color, now I play toys, now I read a book, now I go home.
At first I thought he was saying "no I" but I realized that he's saying "now I."

I told Damon and Monson to get their tennis shoes.  They said "What are tennis shoes?"  I told them shoes you wear with socks are called tennis shoes (as opposed to sandals).  So Monson got his shoes and then brought his socks to me and said, "Here's my tennis socks Mommy."

Sophie loves everyone...except people wearing glasses.  She always has a smile for everyone, but about a month ago I realized that she had started to cry when some people would look at her.  I discovered that anytime someone wearing glasses, especially if it was a man, would come up to her and smile and talk to her, she would get the saddest look on her face and start to cry.  So now I have to warn people to take off their glasses if they want her to be ok with them.

The other day we were all getting ready to go somewhere.  I said the typical thing when we were getting close to leaving, "It's time to go!" but that usually means that we still have a few minutes before we will actually leave.  A few minutes later we were rounding kids up to put them in the car, but we couldn't find Monson.  We looked all over the house and outside, but couldn't find him.  I brought Damon out to the car to put him in and there was Monson, sitting in his car seat, buckled and ready to go.  This has continued to happen so if we are going somewhere and can't find Monson, he's already in the car, ready to go.

I refer to Damon as "Brother" when I'm telling Monson to have Damon help him with something or to go play with him, etc.  Therefore, Monson usually, cutely, calls Damon "Brudder."  The other day, this little exchange happened:

Me: Damon, please pick up your clothes.
Monson: Yeah Damon, you need to pick up your clothes.
Damon: Monson, you don't have to call me Damon.  You can call me Brother.

So cute!  He loves that Monson calls him "Brother" and prefers Monson to call him by his nickname.