Here I was, trying to get my reading done for my English Comp II class (we're reading MLK Jr's "Letter From Birmingham Jail") and I thought Little I was playing quietly with his cars in the dining room. That is, until he comes in the living room, naked, carrying my deodorant with white spots on his chest.
Him: "It doesn't work."
Me: "What doesn't work?"
Cue the gasp and stifled laugh when I look up and see him.
Him: "I want it on my boobies."
Me: "You don't have boobies, honey. Can I have my deodorant back please?"
Him: "Yes I do have boobies. They're right here."
*Points somewhere on his ribcage between his bellybutton and nipples*
Me: "No, honey. You don't have boobies. And Deodorant goes under your arms."
He wanted some deodorant under his arms then, so I put some on him and then tell him it's bath time.
And this is why I love my life. He makes me smile and laugh so much at the random things he does.