Grandboy (holding toy that’s been in a box for years now): Gwumpa I’m old enough NOWWWW to play with this?
Me: Not yet. Let’s see how you behave for a while yet.
Grandboy: Awwww you ALWAYS say that Gwumpa. (Brilliance ensues) How ’bout when I’m 8 years old? Can I open it when I’m 8?
Me (counter brilliance ensues): How ’bout we wait til you’re 8, and then I can answer the question?
Grandboy: YESSSS! I GET AN ANSWER WHEN I’M 8
(Watching nature show)
Grandboy: Gwumpa that wolf is going to kill that baby deer.
Me: Ayep
Grandboy: Go baby deer go
Me: O no now the cute baby wolf cub will die. It hasn’t eaten in weeks and needs food.
Grandboy: Oh
Me: No wait, the wolf is catching up! Go Wolfie go
Grandboy: Ah and now the baby wolf will have food now.
(Thinking)
Grandboy: That’s how it is, huh? Some things eat and some things get eaten.
Me: Yep. The important thing for them is to know which one is which pretty quickly.
—-
Nature shows mimic politics
Me (purposely singing loudly and off-key, and in odd registers)
Grandboy: WOW GWUMPA I love your singing!
Me (more bellowing)
Grandboy (holding up a toy person): But she HATES the singing. Not me though. I LOVE the singing!
Grandboy (carefully arranges pizza slices and brownies on a plate)
Me: …
Grandboy (presents the plate to me, and speaks in his best Butler voice): Hullo, suh… Care for some pizza and a whiff of brandy, my good suh?
Me: Indubitably