(Looking through a WW1 book that I have out from the library.) "Awesome machine gun!... SweeeEEEEt... Look at these planes! This book is so awesome I could... I could just *live* in it!" Me: "Where'd you hear that?" Seth (as if it's rather obvious): "From MYSELF!"
.:.:.
You know how these days when people admit to a mistake, they say, "Oh, my bad." Well I do that a lot. "Who didn't start the dishwasher?" "My bad." "You just said the wrong name when you were talking about so-and-so." "My bad." "Weren't you going to make me breakfast this morning?" "My bad."
You get the picture.
Well, Seth has his own little spin on things. I have heard him on a couple of different occasions saying, "Why am I bad." in the same tone of voice that I say, "My bad." He's not asking a question. He's stating it. "Why am I bad." Oh, and he tries to fit it all into as little space as possible so it sounds like, "WhimeIbad." Too funny.
.:.:.
We were talking about a church in our area and mom said, "That's the church Mrs. S____ grew up in." Seth's eyes got big as he said, "Mrs. S____ grew up in a church???!!!"
.:.:.
I stood behind Seth's chair at dinner and snapped my chapstick closed right next to his ear. "Emily," he said in a whining voice.
"What?" I asked, "All I did was make a little noise. I haven't tipped your chair back, touched you, or anything! Is it my presence behind you that bothers you?"
"Well, I wouldn't exactly call them presents."